THE SEARCH FOR MR. ADEQUATE
Part Five
By SUSAN SILVER

“Do You Believe in Magic?”

First, I must get you up to date on all my friends you’ve come to know and love in reading the column. (Let’s hope they still remain my friends after writing about them!)

Debbie, remember her? ... the friend who hasn’t had sex in twenty years? Well, things are looking up, to coin a phrase. She called me with a lilt in her voice I haven’t heard from her since ... ever. She’d met someone who actually turned her on and she was going to act on it, see where it went. And believe it or not, she was hoping that was the bedroom! Hello? I tapped on the phone and checked. Who is this? The words “hot-guy-I-want-to-sleep-with and Debbie” do not go together. I am so happy for her!

For a change I’ll live vicariously through her ... as she has through me for 20 years of drama and angst in love affairs. Yes, yes we share details but never as graphic as the girls on Sex and the City. Frankly I don’t believe any women are that graphic, but I digress ... as I am wont to do. Where was I? (No I don’t want any of your ginko, thank you very much.) Oh yes, I’ll enjoy hearing about her potential romance since I am, for the first time since the divorce, in what’s known as the “really dry patch.” So to speak. (Note to Cousin from Midwest who doesn’t like dirty parts ... this could be taken in a dirty way, just don’t.)

Deb had taken her parents on a cruise to Alaska and got a crush on a guy who was a magician in the little lounge show on the boat. That’s nice. (I said gulping. Magician? Lounge show? Boat? Yikes! But I didn’t say anything to her because we’re not supposed to be so picky, remember. And maybe he’ll pull something better than a rabbit out of his pants.)

They spoke for a total of three minutes and she said it was magical, ha ha ... like they’d known each other in another life. I forgot to tell you Debbie believes in other lives, psychics, horoscopes, and any and all things that are “sent by the Universe.” I pay attention to my horoscope too, I admit. And I’ve been to a psychic or two in my day. But Deb has five or six on call and I always thought that wasn’t a good idea because they all tell her different things that never come true ... as opposed to the one or two who told me things that didn’t. But hey, we support our friends and I encouraged her to pursue this because it was making her like a giddy schoolgirl and that is nice.

She and Mr. Magic have been emailing because he is cruising and so far so good. Except he has a habit of using parenthesis ... like (“he said jokingly”) which alarmed me. It’s a tad fey, sort of feminine, I was going to warn her. But hell, I do it too. Wait! I am a woman and it’s ok for me to do feminine things. (She said hoping the boat is the only kind of “cruising” he’s doing.) We’ll keep on this one, because I sense it will develop into interesting fodder ... I mean moments ... for Deb’s life, that is. (She said unselfishly.)

Truthfully, I have cleared it with all the gang that I could let you in on their activities. Okay okay, I did change their names to protect them ... though they are far from “innocent.” Next on the list ... Lizzie ... you remember Lizzie who never leaves the house? She will finally have to because she is moving and her furniture is now gone.

And Stan, the platonic friend who meets weird women, just met another who told him she has four uteruses (or is that uteri?) On the first date! Warning ... Diva Drama to come!! Run, Stan! Run fast. Now I am starting to think guys don’t have it so easy either.

And finally, Cute Guy/Scary Lawyer has emailed me that he is out of town and we’ll see what happens when he gets back. What did we ever do before email? The Neighbor from Hell doesn’t know what he’s got coming when I set “SL” on him (she said rubbing her hands together maniacally.)

“Wanted”

So, enough procrastination and avoidance. I now must tell you ... okay, confess what icky things I just have gone through in the Search for Mr. Adequate. I’m really trying all these things so you don’t have to, Dear Female Reader. And Dear Male Reader, it’s a window in the female psyche ... one you may or may not want to open.

From time to time in the past I had perused the Singles Ads in various publications like New York Magazine and The New York Times. It just wasn’t something I thought was for me. Not that there’s anything wrong with it ... to paraphrase Seinfeld. Of course they were talking about mastur- (Note to Cousin: close your eyes) -bation.

But my stockbroker met his wife through an ad and a lot of women I know who are a bit younger have explored it with good success. So perhaps someone in my age bracket shouldn’t be so judgmental, should be more open, and, yes, you got me ... I actually had done it once after I had broken up with someone a few years ago. And wonder of wonders, the ad I had answered actually turned out to be a guy I knew of in California so I figured it would be safe enough. (I don’t make anything up folks ... I told you I have the “gift” to meet people I want and again it was delivered to me. It just happened to be “damaged” in the delivery.)

He was a guy who had always been a little rough around the edges, but I knew two very sophisticated women he’d dated, so I agreed to meet him. We had a nice time at the Met where he waxed pretty eloquently about art. I probably would have even gone out with him a second time but he told me that he had been arrested on assault and battery. Twice! Actually I was afraid to turn him down but fortunately he didn’t call again. I suppose changing my phone to an unlisted number could have had something to do with that. That had been my last and only venture into the Personals. Now, I decided to try again. Hell, let’s face it, I have to do something or I don’t have anything to write about every Friday, do I?

I have been told that the ads in the New York Review of Books would be more the type of man I’d like (non-felons) but I didn’t have one handy. So I opened the Times and scanned the ads. The usual ... ”smart, fun guys” seeking to go on “hikes” with “skinny, easy going girls between the ages of 23-35.” No, no, no, and ... no on all accounts. Ok. Oh wait, here’s a few looking for “sophisticated, smart, honest women ... any age.” All right! Now we’re cookin.’ No wonder. Reading on, I discover the men are between the age of 76 and death. Nope. And that’s not counting the guy 80 who doesn’t’ want to date anyone over 55! Hey gramps ... you’ve got a lot of nerve! But I think you’ll find what you’re looking for in the Women Seeking Men ads ... the ones that read “ Young curvy blonde looking for a mature man over 75 with a bad heart.” And good luck to both of you!

Here’s a guy looking for a “Frida Kahlo look-a-like” Hmmm ... no I refuse to stop plucking my eyebrows even for “Adonis with cash.”

And then, I come across the single weirdest singles ad I have ever seen! (I know that is repetitive but I like the way it sounds. So any of you Editors out there, forgive me.) Plus, importantly, if this guy comes and sues me, remember I have a Scarey Lawyer on call. Ready or not, here it comes.

“FEATURES OF RENAIISANCE CHRIST”

(I swear to God, or his father if you believe that way, this is what it said.)

“Ageless” (Well, I guess so) “slim” (yeahhhh)
“illustrates fiction”(and lives it, I’d say)
“plays harp”(you can’t make this up folks)
“seeking long haired attractive woman”
(named Mary I bet!)

Okey-dokey. I closed the paper and took a drink and I don’t even drink, except for the occasional champagne. (Dom or Cristal, she hinted. The holidays and my birthday are, after all, coming up.)

Bottom line, I don’t think answering Singles Ads are for me. It’s a needle in the haystack and the odds are not in one’s favor. And somehow I don’t think the kind of guy I’m interested in would take out an ad. Plus, it could be dangerous. But I do have another good idea or two to explore. Except they’ll no doubt require me drinking a lot of champagne to get up the nerve. So ... if you want to encourage me, you know what to do. Chocolate would probably work too. Until next time ...