My “friend” Holly recently met the man of her dreams on a dating site.  She’s in her late 40s and lives here in the SCV.  He’s 52, but lives in Long Beach.  Even though they were G.U. (geographically undesirable) to each other, he still asked her out.  They met in Santa Monica for lunch and spent the next five hours talking, getting Starbucks after lunch, and walking along Palisades Park.
Two weeks later date number two was a 10-hour day wine tasting in Santa Barbara.  He drove to pick her up, took her from one vineyard to the next, then to lunch, then home, and drove all the way back to Long Beach.  How romantic!  A week later for date number three, she invited him over for dinner.  He brought over some wine that he’d purchased in Santa Barbara because “she said she liked it.”  So far, no problem, right?

Date number four was a lovely dinner at Le Chene, followed by a day of hiking in Frazier Park, topped off with a wine and cheese picnic that he had packed for them.  I haven’t seen my friend so taken by a man in years.  He seemed wonderful.  He never left a date without making plans for another one.  He did all the driving, took her to places he thought she’d enjoy, and went out of his way to please her.  When he suggested that they become exclusive after a month of dating, Holly didn’t hesitate.  So she emailed him from the site they had met on to tell him that she was removing her profile because, as she put it, she’d only be looking for someone just like him.  When she asked for his thoughts on this, he replied, “I agree with you.”  Was that the appropriate response?  Holly was hoping for something more like:  “Well, guess what?  I already removed mine!”  For some reason, it didn’t feel right.

So she borrowed a younger friend’s picture, and my credit card.  She created a new profile in Long Beach and posted it.  Within hours he viewed her.  By the next day he wrote.  I was with her when she read his email to the fake, non-existent woman:  “It would be nice to meet someone who lives close by that I could have chemistry with.”  If she had posted five profiles, would he have answered all five?

Should she have followed her instincts as she did?  Or should she have continued to blissfully date a man who spoke words of exclusivity?  Is online dating contributing to the Candy Store mentality; the false belief that something better is on the next counter?  When we find someone we’ve been looking for, aren’t we supposed to stop looking?

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Santa Clarita Magazine