of hemp if the U.S. government weren’t so terrified of allowing it to be planted, and as it happens, I’m not in the mood to get depressed and angry about the injustices of the world just now.
“Did I tell you I’ve been trying the online dating thing?” Gabrielle says, rescuing me from my deliberations over how to start a conversation.
“No! That’s great!”
“I figured if it worked for you, it might work for me. And guess what? I have a date for tomorrow night.”
“Really? Cool. Tell me about him.”
“He’s a doctor, an MD, internal medicine.”
“So he’s smart, that’s a start.”
“He’s cute. He’s divorced, two kids.”
“Ooh, another divorced guy. How old is he?”
“Thirty-five.”
“How long has he been divorced?”
“Separated for three, officially divorced for two.”
“Has he dated since then?”
“One woman.”
“Good, so he’s got the transitional woman out of the way.”
“My thoughts precisely.”
“How long have you guys been emailing each other?”
“About a week.”
“I’m so excited for you. Why didn’t you tell me you were trying the online thing?”
“I just did! Honestly, I’d looked at a few sites every now and then over the past few months, but usually it just depressed me to see what’s out there. So many guys brag about how they are just typical guys. I don’t want a typical guy. I want more than that. It’s as if there is a large contingent of people who are afraid to be different and think for themselves. Then I saw Jeremy’s picture, and when I read his ad, I thought, what the hell?”
“Good for you. I want a full report as soon as you get home.”
“But of course.”
A woman carrying a paper plate filled with food smiles and joins Gabrielle and me in our little circle.
“Hi, I’m Lisa. I’m a friend of Rachel’s. I live just down the block.”
“Hi, I’m Eva. This is Gabrielle.”
“You two looked like you were discussing something interesting.” She bites into a carrot, crunching loudly.
“We’re just talking about the joys of dating when you’re in your thirties,” I say.
“I bet it’s not easy.”
I take this opportunity to notice the colossal rock she’s wearing on the ring finger of her left hand.
“Well, it’s fun when you meet a good guy. I met Will a few months ago and I’m in heaven. He’s over there.” I point to where he’s talking to Jon over an open beer cooler. “It’s been great. He’s great. It’s just been a little hard for me to deal with the fact that he’s divorced. I just have to get over it, but still, you know, it’s a little painful.”
“That must be so hard,” she shakes her head as if I’ve just told her I have terminal cancer. “I guess I’m lucky. My husband and I got married when we were both twenty-five.”
I nod and smile. What does she want me to say? Yes, you did the marriage thing right. I’m sorry I didn’t hop to it in my twenties; I will never forgive myself.
Through my defensive feelings, I get this sudden flash of emotion, this sinking feeling I’m getting used goods. Nobody ever won a gold medal for coming in second. Second is just not as good. Everyone knows that.
“It’s actually kind of good that he was married,” I say. “He was with her for six years, so that cuts down on the number of sex partners he could have racked up.”
Apparently Lisa doesn’t see the humor or truth in my comment, and she just gives me this fake smile like she just smelled something awful.
“I’m doing the online dating thing, too,” Gabrielle says. “But it’s exactly like you say, Eva. I want a guy around my age, so I’m looking at all these guys in their thirties, and if they’re single I think, ‘why are you still single?’ and if they’re divorced I think, ‘why did you get a divorce?’”
“It’s tricky isn’t it?” I say.
“I’m so glad I never had to go through that,” Lisa says. “I guess
“Did I tell you I’ve been trying the online dating thing?” Gabrielle says, rescuing me from my deliberations over how to start a conversation.
“No! That’s great!”
“I figured if it worked for you, it might work for me. And guess what? I have a date for tomorrow night.”
“Really? Cool. Tell me about him.”
“He’s a doctor, an MD, internal medicine.”
“So he’s smart, that’s a start.”
“He’s cute. He’s divorced, two kids.”
“Ooh, another divorced guy. How old is he?”
“Thirty-five.”
“How long has he been divorced?”
“Separated for three, officially divorced for two.”
“Has he dated since then?”
“One woman.”
“Good, so he’s got the transitional woman out of the way.”
“My thoughts precisely.”
“How long have you guys been emailing each other?”
“About a week.”
“I’m so excited for you. Why didn’t you tell me you were trying the online thing?”
“I just did! Honestly, I’d looked at a few sites every now and then over the past few months, but usually it just depressed me to see what’s out there. So many guys brag about how they are just typical guys. I don’t want a typical guy. I want more than that. It’s as if there is a large contingent of people who are afraid to be different and think for themselves. Then I saw Jeremy’s picture, and when I read his ad, I thought, what the hell?”
“Good for you. I want a full report as soon as you get home.”
“But of course.”
A woman carrying a paper plate filled with food smiles and joins Gabrielle and me in our little circle.
“Hi, I’m Lisa. I’m a friend of Rachel’s. I live just down the block.”
“Hi, I’m Eva. This is Gabrielle.”
“You two looked like you were discussing something interesting.” She bites into a carrot, crunching loudly.
“We’re just talking about the joys of dating when you’re in your thirties,” I say.
“I bet it’s not easy.”
I take this opportunity to notice the colossal rock she’s wearing on the ring finger of her left hand.
“Well, it’s fun when you meet a good guy. I met Will a few months ago and I’m in heaven. He’s over there.” I point to where he’s talking to Jon over an open beer cooler. “It’s been great. He’s great. It’s just been a little hard for me to deal with the fact that he’s divorced. I just have to get over it, but still, you know, it’s a little painful.”
“That must be so hard,” she shakes her head as if I’ve just told her I have terminal cancer. “I guess I’m lucky. My husband and I got married when we were both twenty-five.”
I nod and smile. What does she want me to say? Yes, you did the marriage thing right. I’m sorry I didn’t hop to it in my twenties; I will never forgive myself.
Through my defensive feelings, I get this sudden flash of emotion, this sinking feeling I’m getting used goods. Nobody ever won a gold medal for coming in second. Second is just not as good. Everyone knows that.
“It’s actually kind of good that he was married,” I say. “He was with her for six years, so that cuts down on the number of sex partners he could have racked up.”
Apparently Lisa doesn’t see the humor or truth in my comment, and she just gives me this fake smile like she just smelled something awful.
“I’m doing the online dating thing, too,” Gabrielle says. “But it’s exactly like you say, Eva. I want a guy around my age, so I’m looking at all these guys in their thirties, and if they’re single I think, ‘why are you still single?’ and if they’re divorced I think, ‘why did you get a divorce?’”
“It’s tricky isn’t it?” I say.
“I’m so glad I never had to go through that,” Lisa says. “I guess
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