Wednesday, October 20, 2010

The set up

I have never been much of a match-maker.

It's just not my thing. I think you have to have a romantic, rose-colored glasses, "someday my prince will come" outlook on life in order to be a good matchmaker.

So clearly, that is not me.

I was not waiting for a prince. Or a princess. On a good day, maybe a guy would buy me a beer or something......but that was about the extent of it. I wasn't waiting around for Mr. Right, I was just hoping to meet someone who could tolerate me. Relationships are a bit of an enigma. I have no idea what makes them work. I am always surprised when they end (or surprised that they lasted as long as they did). I don't understand what people see in each other that tells them "this is the one". I don't know if you can ever truly "just know". Too many people get divorced after 20 years of marriage for me to have a lot of faith in that Hallmark moment when the room gets quiet and all you can see is each other and the lights dim and the birds sing and your eyes lock and....well, you know the rest. I don't get it. So I don't have the foresight to introduce people thinking that they will fall in love and get married and ride off into the sunset. The few times I have introduced people, the results have been something like a lab experiment gone terribly awry, wherein everything is going great, the chemicals are reacting as expected, you are relieved that you didn't screw up too badly and maybe you'll pass chemistry after all when HOLY SHIT SOMEONE LEFT THAT GAS JET ON AND NOW THE TABLE IS ON FIRE AND ITS SPREADING RUN FOR YOUR LIVES DUCK AND COVER GO GO GO GO.

In other words? Train wreck. Do not ask me to hook you up with someone - you will live to regret it, if you survive the apocalypse.

Now, on the other side of the coin, the woman who introduced me to Sam (she's his cousin, and my friend) has an excellent record for matchmaking, and she has found some really unlikely pairs. For instance, the day she introduced us, I was just off work, in a suit and heels, chain smoking as I walked - very quickly - through the crowd. Sam was laid off, and ambled up in some really ratty knit shorts and a pair of Converse hi-tops that were so worn the sole flapped when he walked.

She seemed so sure of herself, of our compatability, of the rightness of it all.
I thought maybe she had just lost her ever-loving mind.

While I was not holding out for Mr. Perfect, I did have a few requirements. Like, employment.

OK, that was pretty much my only hard and fast requirement. And he didn't meet it.

But then that thing happened. Where I knew he was the one. It took a while, and everyone seemed to know it months before I did, but I finally realized that I had found my guy. Plus, he got a job.

Even though we were a matchmaking success story, I did not go around trying to make other people as happy as I was. If I needed help to find a husband, who the hell was I to think I could help someone else find a partner? Clearly, I have no natural ability in that department.


Because I introduced my friend Matty to a real, honest-to-goodness, kick-ass rollergirl. While I make no guarantees, everything seems to be going swimmingly. Which is to say, he's not scared of nudity, girl on girl action, unicorns, blood, or vomit. I hope it all works out, because let me tell ya, its almost impossible to find a guy who can handle all of that who doesn't also live in his mom's basement.

Trust me.

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