Single Ashlander

I’ll admit that I often fall prey to a common trap of dating – lowering my standards. As time goes on I continue lowering my standards until my last date happened, an attractive man with the personality of a fourteen year old girl. My sister met him and had to tell me, “he’s a ditz, a male ditz.” I took a quick look at the fact that he did not appreciate my pirate jokes, shouted comments like “let’s get rowdy” and lived in his father’s basement, and quickly decided I had hit rock bottom.
I start dating with the best of intentions. I tell myself that I’m an attractive, smart, funny girl with a lot to offer and a plethora of good conversation and think, how hard could it be to find the same thing in another (male) person? Astoundingly difficult. First to hit the bucket is usually good conversation. I like trivia books and unusual facts, so I can make conversation about anything, even hockey, hopefully baseball. Second to go I’d like to say is attractive, I’d like to believe that looks aren’t important, but if we’re being honest, and in an anonymous blog why not be, it’s probably smart. I tell myself that the man has “street smarts,” until I drink a cup of hang over coffee and realize that “street smarts” in Ashland simply amounts to knowing there are several well lit, safe alleys in Ashland which are quaint and beautiful and a great place to ride your bike away from traffic. Funny never goes. I love a guy with a great sense of humor who can make me laugh, and who will laugh with me about the most inappropriate of topics. Unfortunately I’m not a great judge of funny. Sometimes I think people are being funny, and it takes me several weeks to realize that they are actually stupid, or very angry.
My biggest problem is that I think of the men that I date as pets. Sort of loveable, and very sweet, but definitely not human. I do love my pet goldfish, but I also know I can replace him for ten cents, not always for a better goldfish, but at least a new and different one. The guys I’ve met and dated so far have been like goldfish. They’re flashy and lovely and they certainly brighten up a room, but they’re not a catfish with personality or a salmon full of drive and fight, or a tilapia, an interesting fish which can be caught using blueberries, peas or grapes. I am no ordinary bait, and I’m waiting for someone who is tempted by something beyond the ordinary.