Purpose Dating

I know a lady (I’ll call her Sharon) who has a really interesting formula for successful dating. She’s a very nice person, in her 40’s, dresses well, has good hygiene, and maybe best of all, her politics aren’t all screwed up. She’s also a professional person, makes a good first impression, is heroically raising a son all by herself, has a nice sense of humor and loves animals. In fact, the only thing that seems to be wrong with Sharon is that she has this incredibly low opinion of the opposite sex.

 “The vast majority of you men are just totally worthless,” she explained to me matter-of-factly the other afternoon.

“Now you don’t really mean that, Sharon. What you’re probably saying is that the man you were married to and divorced was worthless.”

“Oh, no,” she quickly assured me, “he was just the tip of the iceberg!”

“But I know for a fact that you date lots of guys. If they’re all so worthless, why do you go out with them?”

“It’s called `Purpose Dating’, Daryl.”

“Purpose dating?”

“That’s right, I usually only go out with a man for a very specific reason.” 

“You’re kidding?”

“No, I’m very serious. When I go out on a date, the man has to have a very specific talent or ability.”

“Like what? Does he have to be a great lover or something like that?”

“Oh no, I’m not talking about that,” she assured me. “In fact, I don’t think there are any great lovers out there, just a few poor delusional men who happen to think they are. The truth is that most men can’t find a teapot in China, much less any of the pleasurable areas on a woman’s body.”

“So, if you’re not attracted to these guys romantically, then explain to me again why you’re dating them?”

“Let me give you a few examples, Daryl. For instance, if the pipes under my sink start leaking, or if my toilet goes on the fritz, I start looking around for someone to go out with who can fix it. Or say it’s time to get my wood stove worked on or the house painted, then I’ll ask my girlfriends if they know anyone who can do that kind of work without screwing it up.” 

“You’re putting me on, aren’t you?”

“Not at all.”

“But that’s horrible, Sharon!”

“No, it’s not! What’s wrong with staying in touch with men who are good at working on cars, or landscaping, or carpentry? Do you know what an electrician charges nowadays? If I had to pay for that all myself, I’d go broke.”

“You never just go out for the fun of it?”

“Very, very rarely. Why would I do that? I can have more fun reading a good romance novel or going somewhere with one of my girlfriends. No, if you’ve got to have a man around, he might as well be doing something constructive.” 

“But haven’t you ever thought of just getting married again? Maybe to a handyman?”

“That’s the problem. Most men nowadays aren’t very handy at all. Like I said before, they’re basically worthless. They have very few things they’re really good at.  What are you good at, Daryl?”

“Who, me?” I asked with concern, alarmed that the conversation had suddenly turned personal.

“Yeah, you. What do you bring to the party?”

“Well, let’s see,” I said, trying to buy myself some thinking time.      

“Can you cook a decent meal?”

“Well, no.”

“Not even barbecue?”

“I don’t really like to barbecue – too smoky and messy.”

“Can you fix things around the house or keep a car running?”

“Well, not really.”    

“How about iron clothes, grocery shop, fold laundry?”

“My wife does most of that stuff,” I said.

“But I’ve been told I’m pretty good at running errands. Oh, and I write.”

“What do you write about?”

“Just people I’ve met and places I’ve been.”

“Have you made any real money doing that?”

 “No, not really.”

 “Sorry, Daryl,” she said sympathetically, “But it sounds to me like you’re just another typical male.”

“Worthless, huh?”

 “I’m afraid so.”

  

         

         

         

          

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