Dating: Let's Do This

To add a shred of class and dignity to the Maury Povich-esque end of my marriage, I waited until I was officially divorced to venture into the dating world. So, the day after I signed the final papers, I said out loud to no one in particular, "I'm ready to date now."  In my novice, naive dating mind, I felt like Moses on the mountaintop, the echo of my voice reverberating throughout the valleys of single men. Hours passed in silence. No suitors appeared at my door with flowers in hand.  I knew I had to take action.

I frequent three places: the gym, work, and Whole Foods.

First, up the gym.  I put on eyeliner.  I combed my hair.  I wore a shirt that wasn't oversized and ancient, and I strapped on my padded sports bra.  (Side note: I tend to furrow my brow, so I decided to try to always have a pleasant expression on my face. In hindsight, my "pleasant" expression is a creepy half-smile.)  A few workouts later, with not even as much as a polite smirk from any male, I gave up. It doesn't help that I have a poor-person membership that only leaves me a three-hour window to workout, so the odds weren't really in my favor to begin with.

Work.  I'm a teacher and work with all women, none of whom seemed to know anyone worth setting me up with.

Whole Foods.  This seemed promising.  I want a future partner to enjoy food shopping, organic food, and join me in salivating over everything in the prepared foods section. Unfortunately, I'm a bit compulsive and always arrive at Whole Foods just as it opens.  I never stopped to think that this might limit potential dating opportunities; I was too focused on bringing my best-looking reusable bag, wearing non-elastic pants, and displaying my "pleasant expression." Within five minutes in the store, I realized it wasn't going to happen.  I was the youngest person of the seven women there.  I'm also too crazy of a produce shopper, and in my fervor of searching for bad spots on fruits and interpreting sell-by dates of lettuce containers, I forgot to be cute. At least my son and I got the freshest apples and spinach in the joint.

I was confused.  A whole week had gone by and no boyfriend.  What gave?  I then realized what I had to do: venture online. Gulp.