Monday, September 17, 2007

Application to Date Me

Note, 12/08: When I met my partner Darren in February 2008, I officially closed the application process. Reference the final paragraph of this post and the words "God forbid"...yes, my Monday nights now involve football and much yelling at the TV screen. Coincidentally, they also involve karaoke at the neighborhood pub. In Mississippi. Funny how things turn out.

September 17, 2007

Dating would be much more efficient if interested guys had to fill out an application. I imagine that they would submit it to me with a cover letter expressing their intentions and qualifications, along with a recent photo. I could read these items at my leisure, ask for supplemental materials when necessary, and then make an informed decision. This process would eliminate the majority of candidates without a single forced conversation, saving precious time and sparing me countless uncomfortable moments. It would also soften the blow of rejection. I wouldn’t feel the least bit guilty sending a form letter that read, “After reviewing your application, I have decided that we’re not a strong romantic fit. Thank you for your interest.” It’s much harder to take personally than, “You’re a great guy, but I’m just not that into _______________ (programmers/Young Republicans/carnies).”


Completing an “Application to Date Me” should be standard practice. After all, people have to fill out an application to attend private school, to buy a house, and to be granted with other special privileges. Isn’t enjoying the pleasure of my company in the same league? It’s certainly on par with getting a job at Taco Bell, or at least I would like to think so.

My sister suggested that I create an Application to Date Me when I was newly single a couple of years ago. Having gone on a couple of disappointing dates, I thought this was a great idea. The only thing in question was what this application would look like. If it were going to identify candidates with high potential and screen out the others, I would have to word it carefully.

I decided to call in the reinforcements. I asked my friend Carol, who was also single and a bit exasperated with boys, to come over one night and create a joint application with me. Surrounding ourselves with munchies, we huddled over my laptop and summoned as our muses the many awkward boys of our past. The following is an excerpt from our application:


1) Throw this application in the trash if you:

  • Drip sweat on me while we are dancing
  • Shave the Batman insignia into your chest hair
  • Document your Unabomber phase on your personal web page

2) Delete my number from your cell phone if you aspire to:

  • Wear the most authentic Darth Maul costume at the midnight premiere of the new Star Wars movie
  • Become a Dungeon Master
  • Become a vampire

3) You will spend tonight alone if you:

  • Are skinnier than I am
  • Have delicate, tapered fingers with manicured nails
  • Get misty-eyed when Celine Dion hits the high note in “My Heart Will Go On”

Let me emphasize that these are all based on real-life experiences, with a couple of specifics changed to spare feelings. You can imagine why Carol and I were frustrated with dating. That night, we shared one horror story after another, which inspired us to list six pages of qualities we absolutely did not want in a man. We stopped only because it was after midnight, and we never did get to what we did want.

The first draft of the Application to Date Me turned out to be a tool not to find the man of my dreams, but rather to screen out those who need not apply. I’m sure it would do a great job of weeding out applicants who were perky morning people, spoke to me in baby talk in the presence of others, or had ever watched an entire WWF fight. It would eliminate those who were really into Lord of the Rings, triple bacon cheeseburgers, or death metal. It would also probably ensure that I never went on a date at all, having kicked to the curb most of the candidate pool.

As I’m now 27 and hoping to avoid becoming an eccentric Cat Lady, I’ve decided that I should probably revise my application in terms of what I actually do want in a guy. My Fall 2007 Application to Date Me will give special consideration to those who:

  • find it impossible to eat a quality meal without frequent, contented “mmm”s
  • can quote both Happy Gilmore and Catcher in the Rye in the same conversation
  • are equally at ease playing kickball with my middle school students and drunkenly rapping “Bust a Move” at a divey karaoke bar

The following questions will be included in the application:

1) Who would win in a Saved by the Bell cage match, Jessie Spano or Lisa Turtle? Explain your answer.

Answer: Jessie, of course, powered by her feisty feminism and her secret stash of caffeine pills. She’s so excited…

2) Angelina Jolie is ____________.

a. A dirty homewrecker

b. A resident of Crazytown

c. Skeletor's more attractive cousin

d. A beautiful, savvy ambassador using her star power for social good

Answer: All of the above. Rachel Ray’s response of “a skanky, backdoor c*nt” would disqualify her for inappropriately harsh language. Though let’s hope that Rachel Ray wouldn’t be filling out an Application to Date Me in the first place.


3) What’s the best strategy for dominating in Halo 2?

Answer: The only appropriate answers are, “What’s Halo 2?” or “Who the hell cares?”

I’m aware that My Application to Date Me shouldn’t dismiss all candidates who have different tastes than I do. I know that if I dated the male version of myself, I would never be introduced to anything outside of my comfort zone. I’m grateful for what past boyfriends have taught me, especially when that knowledge scores me occasional points in the Trivial Pursuit sports category. I’m all for being well-rounded, even if I’ve been known to grumble about hiking Big Sur in 100-degree weather, or to threaten breakup if Tom Waits doesn’t quit yowling about getting behind the mule.

I imagine that in spite of all my careful screening, I’ll probably still end up with someone with certain questionable tastes (then he’ll have to forgive me for going to an *N Sync concert at age 21). I may even—God forbid—end up with a guy whose emotions are directly affected by Monday Night Football. Who knows, maybe I’ll find myself glued to the game along with him – but only on the condition that he karaoke Britney Spears’ “Stronger” with me when our team wins. I’ll make sure to include that in the application.

5 comments:

Gillian said...

I'm pretty sure that I passed that application with flying colors. So, you wanna go out some time? I have D&D on Thursdays, but maybe Friday?

I'm so proud of you for getting your blog up! Hilarious!

Nicole said...

Melia, this is Nicole, wiping away the tears and clutching my sore stomach.

Did Gill tell you that she and I spoke seriously about drafting a joint "Application to Take Gillian and/or Nicole to the SVHS Prom?"

Tara said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Hoosier Joe said...

Hello there Melia-friend. Seeing as how my delicate, tapered fingers and love of Ms. Dion automatically disqualify me, I have no reservations about countering your argument on who would win in a fight between Lisa Turtle and Jessie Spano.

Lisa Turtle would totally whup Jessie Spano and I'mma tell you why. Lisa Turtle is a fighter. She was scrappy and little and quick. Jessie Spano has her beat in terms of reach, but her long, lanky frame would inevitably slow her down in an all-out street fight.

Lisa Turtle fought through pain to win the Casey Kasem's dance contest during the "Dancin' to the Max" episode. What did Jessie ever do? She turned to drugs when times got tough. She's so excited? How about, she's so lame? The quitter.

Lisa Turtle is cold. Cold as ice. The woman turned Screech down for four straight years!

Finally, and most importantly, Lisa Turtle is now a born-again Christian. Jessie Spano fell on hard times and made smut like Showgirls. Obviously the Lord is on Lisa's side.

Need I do any more convincing?

Macky said...

thought you were a filipina.. anyways.. hi from manila..

macky