Back to the Dating Scene

The dating drought ended with the first date I've had in what felt like forever. The guy was almost three decades older than me, nearly bald and long retired. The word "geriatric" kept floating through my mind, and then the words "geriatric date." Between the main course and dessert, I plunged into the abyss of regret, remembering all the men I used to date, many of whom have since gotten married. I surrendered to self pity, thinking, "If only I knew then what I know today," I would no longer have to search.

We'd been corresponding via e-mail for nearly half a year; admittedly, I'm a sucker for words. He's a decent writer, especially in this age of text messaging. He actually turned out better looking than I expected — not as short as the Indian, the last boyfriend I've had — and he has a good taste in restaurants. We had a nice salmon dinner with dessert and wine (he seems like quite a drinker) at a fairly ritzy hotel in Midtown. He's a talker; oddly, he apologized for being a chatterbox after every few sentences.

I thought he was interesting and boring, if that is at all possible. I also thought he dominated the conversation; he kept talking about his work as a teacher, social worker and probation officer. Another red flag: he's never been married before and of course it would be rude to ask why.

Since coming back home, I've been whining about my romantic dry spell to the father and stepmother, who can't actually help me. As the stepmother said, "We can't grab someone off of the street and force him to marry you." I secretly wish they could.

The father topped that off with a comment on marriage versus dating. "Marriage is like a marathon..." he started. I know I easily get bored with people rather quickly. These days the fizzle is even faster with guys as an invisible deadline looms over my head. I am seeking a relationship desperately, but still wonder if I have the patience and the power to focus on any one person. Is this the curse of ADHD? To be love-starved?