Why can’t dating come with instructions? By instructions, I don’t mean a how-to book. There are enough texts on the subject, all trumpeting slick advice on how to meet, marry and mate.
The moment you stand in a bar and pertly balance your Chocolate Martini, you’ll forget the reams of advice.
Taking a deep breath, you’ll wonder, Am I supposed to approach the guy or wait for him to make the first move?
Next, the confusion will be, Do I look at him invitingly or ignore him? Dammit, I’ve read so much advice that I can’t remember if I’m supposed to yin or yang!
Now step away from the Self-Help section and relax. What works for one person doesn’t work for everyone. Instead, concentrate on making the most of the gifts you already own, such as your wry sense of humor, your patience and your take-no-prisoners method of deadheading the delphiniums.
Everyone has strengths and those strengths will be attractive to the right person.
In my world, finding a partner should be as uncomplicated as the instructions on a chopsticks wrapper, sealed for your sanitary protection:
LEARN HOW TO USE YOUR CHOPSTICKS.
Ignore the written instructions and go directly to the illustration of a hand and a set of chopsticks, a Kama Sutra for the utensil-challenged.
TUCK UNDER THUMB AND HOLD FIRMLY.
It’s tough to meet a quality partner and then parlay those fun dates into a long-term relationship because people have skyscraper-high expectations.
When a journalist interviewed a 21-year-old university student, he admitted to measuring all the women he meets to actor Angelina Jolie. Good luck with that.
ADD SECOND CHOPSTICK, HOLD IT AS YOU HOLD A PENCIL.
I prefer my day, like dating, to unfold with simplicity. For example, I recently watched a documentary on ghostly hauntings and poltergeists.
The narrator explained how these frisky ghouls are known for their disruptive behavior, all to grab the attention of us earthly beings. I watched film footage of plates rattling and crashing to the ground.
If I’m ever graced by poltergeists, I’ll quickly set out some ground rules . . . make that ghoul rules.
“Listen up, you vaporous squatters,” I’ll shout into the ether. “If you plan to float around my property, at least make yourselves useful. See those dirty dishes in the sink? Wash and dry them, and carefully put them away. There will be no crashing or breaking. Got it, Casper? Good!”
I’ll be a tough taskmaster with my poltergeists, the same way I’d be with any new partner. I don’t have time to ghoul around.
HOLD FIRST CHOPSTICK IN ORIGINAL POSITION, MOVE THE SECOND ONE UP AND DOWN. NOW YOU CAN PICK UP ANYTHING.
Did I say chopsticks were uncomplicated? Not according to the stained front of every shirt I own.
Like chopsticks, I wish more people came sealed for my sanitary protection.
And as for finding the right person? Throw away the instructions, baby. It’s as easy as picking up that last grain of rice in the bowl.
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