Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Trust me Ma'am, I'm alot taller when I'm standin' on my wallet.

"Jackson Hole".

"What about it?" was my response.

"We're going." she said.

My beautiful, single girlfriend called to say she'd been watching Patty Stanger, aka, The Millionaire Matchmaker. According to Patty – rich, single men are like maggots in Jackson Hole, Wyoming – which is funny, because I was there once and all I got was a speeding ticket and a wicked case of the shits from a chimichanga and a pitcher of margaritas.

Wyoming seemed a little far for a Sunday adventure and besides, Jack had a broken finger and hockey tryouts, and I had no money. Plus, my cousin Stephen once told me I'd have better luck with men if I kept my mouth shut, so until I have a debilitating stroke with subsequent speech loss, I may as well give up.

My friend hasn't totally given up, and out of sheer boredom has been cruising the cyber bars, using dial-up internet. I figure if she were truly desperate she'd at least upgrade to high speed. On Sunday, she told me to log on to one of those online dating websites so I could take a look at someone who – in her opinion – didn't look like a total loser. Not looking like a total loser is a positive step in the right direction these days. The only problem was, I too had to register in order to window shop on Lonely Street.

The good news is, registering is easy. First, I had to think of an alluring handle. I chose "Hockeyhag" because "Hockeymom" was taken and "Puffy, Desperate ol' Slut" seemed a little over the top. Next, I had to fill out a rather lengthy questionnaire, which was kind of fun because I was brutally honest knowing it was just for a lark on a Sunday morning before Coronation Street, and I had my girlfriend on the end of the line. I certainly wasn't venturing into a cyber cougar bar without a wing man.

After I strongly agreed, or strongly disagreed (I rarely answered "somewhat") to a zillion questions, I came to the final, most important question. My answer would be displayed on my Hockeyhag profile for all to see. Since I had no intention of uploading a photo – even a good photo that looked nothing like me – I paid special attention to this crucial final question: Describe what you would like to do on your perfect first date. Without hesitation, I typed in "get rip roarin' drunk", and hit the register button.

I was officially "out there".

Within seconds, I got feedback from the questionnaire summarizing my dating personality. This was the information they use to hone in on my potential perfect matches. I hate to say it, but their profiling was kind of bang on. Granted, it was bang on in the "you are so fucked up" way, but bang on is bang on. It went like this:

As someone who exerts little control over your actions, you may find that you commit social blunders that might offend other people and get yourself in trouble. Nonetheless, you may still experience many short-lived pleasures and never be thought of as boring.

Little control over my actions!? Social blunders!? These guys were good... and at least I wasn't boring.

How does your personality affect your love life?
When it comes to romantic relationships, your openness might make it difficult for you to tolerate people that cannot appreciate diversity as much as you. Therefore, you may be happiest in serious relationships with people that share your open-mindedness.

Okay, so what the results were saying was basically what I already knew: I am a crazy, unlovable pain-in-the-ass with a foul mouth, who will only be happy when I find another crazy, unlovable pain-in-the-ass with a foul mouth.

What I wasn't expecting was – no shit – in a little over a minute, I had a hit. I was as honest and as disgusting as possible and someone out there thought I was a potential mate. Someone out there thought Hockeyhag was actually desirable! In fact, my Mr. Right said I was "his kind of girl". I panicked and immediately started deleting my profile, wiping Hockehag off the face of the Earth. My brief flirtation with online dating was over before I even had my cyber sports bra ripped off in a moment of pure, cyber passion.

My friend, who had stayed on the phone through all this, then asked me the million dollar matchmaker question. "But Schultz, don't you ever wish you had someone to, you know, hang out with once Jack is off on his own?"

"No." was my answer. "I have you".

It's true. As much as it would be nice to have someone pay my bills, and it would be nice to get slammed against the headboard once more before I croak, I have some pretty fun girlfriends. And, since most women outlive men, I figure unless I can find some wealthy octogenarian with a foul mouth, a wicked forehand, and a terminal cough, then I am going it alone. Happily.

Plus, if I were truly desperate, er, interested in finding my soul mate, I could also fork over $997 for a six-month membership at Executive Nova Scotia Dating. They have a two-year option for the really hopeless, and these guys claim to offer professional matchmaking, or "life-changing journeys for busy, successful, wonderful people who do not want to waste time searching for people who are not right." (Or, humourless, self-absorbed weenies with small dicks and big wallets).

As for life-altering journeys to Jackson Hole, Ultimate Ski Vacations offer packaged ski holidays to Marlboro Man country. It may take us a few changeovers, but airports are thick with businessmen in nice suits, and I am apparently desirable, so let's call Maritime Travel and go.

As for Hockeyhag, last I heard she was sitting in a cold rink, crying into her Tim's cup wishing she could make eye contact with the fucking adorable, but oh, so unattainable Zamboni guy.


For local matchmaking call check out www.executivenovascotiadating.com or call 1.800.655.0361

Check out Ultimate Ski Vacations Jackson Hole packages online at www.ultimateskivacations.ca and get Maritime Travel to book it by calling 1.800.593.3334. And take me, please.