I’ve noticed that dating and interviewing for jobs are very similar. But what do YOU think about “Googling” a potential date before you’ve even met them? Does it really give you some kind of competitive advantage over drinks?” I don’t know. Personally, I think it’s unromantic and downright mercenary! Do you think someone has the right to review all the details of your life , before you’ve both been severely inebriated together? Now that’s romance! Should a potential dating candidate (in the name of transparency) hurl , “I FacedBooked you! I guess you graduated high school when you were 9…?”
Maybe I am old fashioned, but I believe in these times of “the meet-up” , “the hook-up”, and “ the cybersnoop”, one should just let things unfold the natural way!
The New Date
We stare into each other eyes. There is chemistry.
I noticed on Linked-In that you’re a marketing strategy consultant. What do you do all day long?
(Perhaps I should wink and say I will “do you!” ) That would make me popular. I eat a pretzel.
“Do you own or rent?” (Referring to my apartment. Not my body parts.)
(“Oh, of course I own.” I lie. I shove a cracker with cheese whiz in my mouth. And what about you?)
“I live in hospital housing.” he smiles.
(What does that mean? Is he a doctor or an in-patient?) I twirl my hair seductively in case he’s a doctor. Damn. I should have “Googled” him!”
He circles back to the apartment. “When did you buy?”
That’s a very important asset question. He’s also trying to figure out the capitol gains for when he moves in, divorces me, and claims ownership of my apartment. Smart. He must be an MD!
I smile coyly, “I can’t tell you that since I’ve frozen my age.”
He points at me with a a pretzel, “Got Ya!”
“It’s the new math. Got it?”
“Where does your mother live?” he asks.
“Not with me. But I’m a good daughter. I visit her every week. ” My smile is frozen.
“What is her address?” he commands as he puts his hand on my leg. That is his way of eliciting secret information from me. I stare blankly.
“Does she rent or own?” he continues.
” I don’t remember” I say weakly. He senses huge capitol gains and squeezes my leg. I start to stand, and he grabs my arm.
“Wait. We’re just getting to know each other. When did she buy?” Just a few more questions.” He pulls out a crumpled list.
“I noticed you only worked with American Baby for one year? How come?”
“How many pairs of shoes do you own?”
“Do you have long term care insurance?”
“Do you believe in decorating for the holidays? If so, with what?”
(How do you want me to decorate you, honey?)
“Do you believe in “Soul Mates?”
“How much money do you make?”
“What do you think about ME!!!”
“Tell me about the perfect relationship.”
“I really like your orange jump suit. What did you DO to get it?”
I think I’ll have some nuts…