Dating in New York City – Holding Hans with Brian Hansbury: Dying to be In Love

Dear Hans,

I am dying to be in love.  I yearn for a relationship but not just for a relationship’s sake.  I’m waiting to find someone I really appreciate, but I always find there’s no one out there that I like.  Do I have to lower my standards?

Choosey in Chelsea

Three of my friends are getting married this year and I am left marveling at the ease with which cool people I know find other people they think are really cool and want to makes babies with.  Ugh.  But fear not, for within this observation lies the empiric evidence of hope.  None of my smitten chums would tell you they lowered their standards to find true love.  So should we lower ours just to hasten betrothal?  No.  You only lower standards to hasten coitus.

But what gives?  Based on a science experiment I just came up with in my brain, of the 6 billion people in the world there are 10, 000 who would meet whatever criteria you hold dear.  10,000 Keiths to your Mick.  10,000 Tenilles to your Captain.  10,000 Rihannas to your Chris Brown (if violence gets you hot).  And all you have to do is find one of these 10,000 needles in an Earth-size haystack.  Wait, this seems impossible.  My friends must be settling.

I just totally refuted my opening paragraph, but for good reason.  None of this shit makes sense.  For example, I think I’m great.  I believe I have a lot to offer any number of beautiful women.  But these women have to be funny in exactly a certain way for me to then want to love them forever.  However, if I’ve never met the perfect woman for me, how can I even begin to conceive of this precise sense of humor?  So, you see, love is a clusterfuck, as any married person will tell you.

What can you do?  You can loosen up.  Go on dates even if the person doesn’t register a ten on the boner scale.  Give the mega-hot chick who bored you to tears another chance.  Loiter, shiftily, outside a Whole Foods (always hot chicks there).  Shit, you may have already dated the perfect girl, but at the time were blinded by the shimmeringly false light of idealism.  Love is like shrooming.  I would never have seen Fantasia 2000 at IMAX if I weren’t on mushrooms.  I had to open myself up to the experience before it could show me what I needed to see.

Goddamn.  I just dropped a poignancy bomb all over your face.  If there are Emmys for Internet dating writing, this is my official submission.

El Hans

original post, 3/10/09 @ 09:02

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