For the last month I have been perusing a dating site. Or maybe I should say apprehensively surveilling. Yes, that is much more like it. I have read many, many profiles of other singles out there looking. I have viewed men holding fish, men who try to hide that they are follically challenged with hats, men with inappropriate profile names, like 69Iheartanal69, men in their favorite sports jerseys, men with professional head shots, men in action: running, riding, skiing, snowboarding, biking, etc. It’s mind-boggling.

I have struck up conversations with a few men on this site, but have had much difficulty moving from the chat phase to meeting in person. I finally forced myself to meet up with a potential candidate the other day.  We did have a great conversation. Totally enjoyed every minute, but have zero urge to schedule a second date. The pressure of what will follow on the second, third, and fourth date is just too much for me to consider. I discussed this phenomena with my brilliant friend, Gina.  And she pointed out the obvious. She asked why I’m on a dating site when I’m actually looking for friendship? I have never considered this concept and therefore have reworked my profile.

Hi. My name is Amy and I am a forty-two year female who found myself on this dating site by accident. Since I have a week left on my membership I feel that I better get the best bang for my buck and list what I am looking for in the most authentic way I know. I am not looking for a husband, “the one”, or someone to complete me. My bar is set a bit lower. I am merely looking for someone to tolerate me for a few hours at a time. If you are looking to enjoy some food, good coffee or wine, and some cheeky conversation, by all means send me an email or chat request. However, before you start tapping away on your keyboard, you might want to read the rest.

I am not looking for someone who wants to hold my hand, or needs a meet up to fend off the fear of loneliness. If you live too far away, please don’t reply. If I could befriend someone in my neighborhood that would be optimal, driving is exhausting. Please make note of my zip code. If it was socially acceptable to put out fliers on the telephone pole outside my house and in the streets surrounding my neighborhood, I would have already done this. I’ve considered walking door to door like a solicitor of sorts, but the conversations would be awkward. If we do happen to make a connection I want you to know that I never really want you to come to my house, ever. It’s small and I have dogs that apparently have no boundaries, so I have been told.

I am not much of a cook and eat most of my meals standing over my kitchen sink, while my gas stove glares at me impatiently. If you like to cook and/or dine out then this is a plus. Also, I have to let you know that I work out daily and I might sometimes choose to workout over you. I like the mountains and fear the coast. I have a tremendous phobia of tsunamis and I plan my escape looking for higher ground every minute I am there. Sure, I still go to the coast, but I only go during the times I’m feeling a bit depressed and know I don’t have the will to run if an earthquake would occur. We can plan our trips during those times when I would rather just surrender to the big wave if you’d prefer.

If you do insist that I entertain you at my house (please see above) understand that I have dogs. I will do my best to have my house clean enough. If I can be completely frank, I will just assume that my house will make you uncomfortable and this then makes me uncomfortable. Therefore, you can never stay over, ever. I will not be able to sleep and I will resent you. No, on second thought scratch what I said above. Let’s just plan that you never come to my house.

If I can be comprehensibly straightforward, I am not interested in giving you my telephone number or scheduling a date at this time. I will, however, be at my local coffee shop every other Saturday between the hours of 9 to 11. If you are interested please stop by. I will be the one in the corner, dressed in 5 different shades of gray, clutching my coffee cup much like how the jaws of life grasps chunks of metal. If you approach me don’t be surprised if I deny that my name is Amy and that this profile belongs to me.