We weren’t surprised when he–Jarron–wanted to meet us, cook for us, buy us things, marry us. He explained that he was a gourmet chef and that he lived on the upper west side. Oh this was good.
After many more e-mail exchanges (just to be sure), we drove to his loft. “This is a really nice neighborhood,” I muttered as Scorpio searched for a parking spot. “I told you not to bring the wine with the screw-top.”
“It’s good wine! My family drinks it all the time!” she rolled her eyes, pulling a fast U-turn in the middle of traffic and parking to a chorus of angry horns.
“Yeah, and they eat sardines with salsa,” I added.
“Yeah, and…?” she laughed in spite of herself. “I knew this was drinkable and we didn’t know about the others in the store.”
“The others had corks,” I said as we got out and started to walk. Then I handed her the brown paper bag with the bottle in it.
“Why do I get to carry it?”
“I’m embarrassed,” I said. “Do you see these balconies? Those are real gargoyles over there. Look, his building has a doorman. And all the cars outside are Mercedes. Hide the bag. Sheesh.”
“Will you stop?” she hissed as we entered the building and took the elevator up to Jarron’s door. We rang. The door swung open.
I don’t think I visually registered Jarron for at least five minutes. I’d been blinded by the most stunning modern chic loft I’d ever seen. Swirling, blown glass vases, Egyptian artwork (really from Egypt, not Marshalls, I noted) and antique toys surrounded us. My eyes rested on a shelf filled with fine vintage wines.
“Come in, make yourselves comfortable,” he welcomed us.
“Thanks,” I smiled, looking at the hand painted salad bowls and designer salt and pepper shakers on the Bauhaus table.
“I hope you don’t mind if I finish cooking a couple of things while you have a seat,” he offered. While we waited, he put out a plate of aged hard cheeses against which Scorpio still rates all cheeses to this day. In the meantime, we exchanged heavy conversation about film, literature, travel, cooking. He was continental, rich, genteel and Jewish. We nearly combusted for joy.
Just before the meal was finished, “Why don’t you choose a wine from the shelf?” he offered.
I noted a bottle of Perrier Jouet, and my tongue caught in my throat.
Then Scorpio piped up, “Oh no, we brought this,” and whipped out the paper bag. I nearly dropped dead.
“All right,” Jarron said (being of the utmost politeness, I realized).
He took a sip.
And then another.
We popped open the Perrier Jouet.
And then, as inebriation reared its honest head, Jarron’s delicate nature dropped away. His conversation became more candid. And then in passing, he mentioned something about being a “cheat.”
“What kind of cheat?” I asked. At first, he refused to say, but I insisted.
He shrugged out a smile. “I cheat on my taxes, my friends, games, girlfriends.” He went on to explain, brightly, how he’d carried on an affair with the wife of his Orthodox Jewish neighbor; how he’d seduced a friend’s girlfriend; how he’d lied to nearly everyone he knew.
From that moment on, we knew we’d never see Jarron again.
But we didn’t mind. Actually, we laughed.
Had either of us been alone on that date, we would have counted it a failure: an aborted attempt at a relationship. But since we were there in a lighthearted, joint search for entertainment, it became something totally new and different. We’d shared great conversation, seen the inside of an upper west side apartment and tasted $200 champagne. Whether or not Jarron stayed in either of our lives didn’t matter, for we’d all enjoyed ourselves for a day.
After all, dating is not easy, and online dating can be even more difficult: what you see isn’t always what you get. As on Ebay, the ad often outshines the object.
But just as there are incredible Ebay treasures waiting to be found, there are also great dates. And, as on Ebay, you can get some insurance on your time, emotions and general well-being: simply go on dates together…and make them part of your good time, not the focus of it.
In the “worst” cases, Scorpio and I have had good conversations and our dates have enjoyed listening. In the best cases, we’ve all gotten along famously, laughed and talked and learned from each other, even if we’ve chosen not to start epic romances.
We haven’t given up on finding steady relationships, but we have changed our focus. We’re not looking for Mr. Right, or even Mr. Right Now. In fact, dating just for the fun of it has become our purpose. We’ve both discovered that there are many “Mr. Perfects.” There’s Mr. Perfect for Museum-Going, Mr. Perfect For Sharing Music, Mr. Perfect For Finding Off-the-Beaten-Path Restaurants and Mr. Perfect for Just Talking. Simply meeting and knowing them all enriches our lives.
Naturally, when Mr. Perfect for Sticking Around comes along, we’ll each be ready for him. But until then, Scorpio and I believe we have found the real secret to successful dating. Meet new people, laugh with friends and indulge your bliss every chance you get. The more peace and joy you make in your life, the closer you’ll grow to your true perfect soulmate–the only one who can ever answer all your questions, heal your heart and fully feel every great emotion you experience. That is, of course, the only one who will also be with you on every date: yourself.
“Miss Gemini” (Jamie Kiffel-Alcheh) and “Miss Scorpio” are dating experts and co-authors of Gemini and Scorpio’s Fabulous Guide to Online Dating
