Our first guppy was brought to us by a superior fisherwoman – the queen of the sea (and by that, we really mean our workplace). While he certainly measured up in certain ways (humor, open-mindedness, good punctuation), the spark just was not there. So…we baited the hook and cast again.
God bless technology because while the first gentleman was introduced via email, the second was acquainted through a long-distance phone conversation, in which we were trying to open a new checking account. After the requisite “how’s the weather up there?” (we suspect that people don’t really know where Iowa is and therefore use the weather to try and figure it out), we proceeded to have an hour-long conversation about sports, music, and travel. We were able to peruse his photos on a popular social networking site, and to our pleasant surprise, he was, in a word, HOT: hot like the sun that scorches the Texan land where he lives… Clearly, this has lots of potential.
Casting the net even further, we were able to track down a previous suitor – yes, the one we had ditched in favor of the crazies at the casino – using technology as well. After piecing together what little information we had about his first name, his profession, and his hair color, we – in a word – stalked and emailed him. (Disclaimer: if you establish a profile on a popular networking site, you are asking to be found.) We set up a date, and he walked right past: mistaking the brunette for the blonde in the profile picture, forcing the brunette to text him and him to awkwardly tell her that she should change the picture so that it is her alone and not false advertising. Not surprisingly, there was not a date number two.
Another fish that somehow got snagged in our net was caught at a mutual friend’s birthday party. After a few hours of talking and enjoying each other’s company, he proceeded to ditch the 26-year-old for the teenagers who had illegally entered the bar. We tried to explain to him that despite his position as a local rock star (status questionable), he was not nearly famous enough to pull that shit. Several weeks passed without hearing from Music Man, and then he surfaced out of nowhere. We attribute this resurfacing to his realization of the frailty of life due to the passing of his musical friend (who, surprisingly, actually was famous) and needing to connect to what’s really important, creating something substantial in this fleeting world. Turns out, though, that while he was quite interested in meeting up, it was only to sell – not give, SELL – us tickets to his upcoming gig. We (not-so) regretfully declined.
Thankfully, one of the men we met last summer had mysteriously reappeared from what we can only assume was an extended stay in a Thai prison or a severe accident in the Amazon. He must have undergone a lobotomy or attended a boyfriend-boot camp, as he is now calling sober at 8 p.m. as opposed to drunk and needing a ride (no pun intended) at last call. He agreed to meet for a drink after a disastrous dinner date with another suitor, and it was actually a pleasant experience. However, he has been promising a second date for the past two weeks, but fingers crossed, this is because he is becoming a grown-up and not backsliding into douche-baggery.
To get through the current environmental crisis and to effectively sift through the dregs of our nets, we realize we need a new strategy: we will sharpen our hooks, we will perfect our bait, and we will cast where the fish are biting – the sushi-grade fish, of course, not the bottom-feeding catfish. Des Moines, get ready for the Deadliest Catch.
And what better dinner tonight than beer-battered fish tacos with tomato/avocado salsa, brown rice, and a fresh fruit salad?
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