singles
by Kimberly Gadette

the pasta theory of love

I believe in the Pasta Theory of Love: Throw enough singles up against me, and someone's bound to stick. Or, staying with a high carb theme, but in Old Testament terms, “cast thy bread upon the waters. “

Since you never know when or where your person will show up, go everywhere, do everything, meet everyone. When internet dating started on AOL back in the dark age of blue bars and screeching modems, outdated statistics guestimate that for every 350,000 male computer nerds, there were approximately 2.67 women. I was one of those 2.67 women and yes, I was very popular. (That unfortunate .67 of a female had a rough time at the start, but I hear she finally found her better third and has been living in the Tri-State area ever since.)

Yahoo! now claims anywhere from 8 million to 15 million daters. Match.com claims about the same, or “What Yahoo says, but more.” JDate states it has over 500,000 subscribers. Looking at the glass as half-empty, that's a lot of competition. But looking at that glass as if it were a fine piece of Waterford, that's a whole lot of wonderful. Women, get cracking. Addressing the tired old anthem, “But I'm too fat to date,” stop warbling the blues and take off whatever extra poundage might be holding you back. Today. Men, get rid of your fears about balding. Haven't you heard? Bald is the new “hot.” If the American Bald Eagle can make a comeback … so can you. But if you remain unconvinced and self-conscious: Become a highly observant Jew and wear that yarmulke 24/7. Invest in a few colors and fabrics—nothing says “snappy dresser” more than a well-coordinated yarmulke.

Taking my own advice, I told my sister, “If I have to search every nook, cranny and fissure of this city, I'll find him. “ She reminded me that fishers make very smelly husbands. Nevertheless, it was the idea of casting a net that appealed to my visual sensibilities. Not just any net, and not just the Internet, but the Outer-net, too. Or, as my mother used to say, go outside already, take in a little fresh air. What could it hurt?

Which brings me back to the Pasta Theory. Potential mates are in the computer AND they're at the market, the cleaners, the little league game. Ladies, it's time to get down to nuts and bolts. And nuts and bolts is a marvelous place to start. Oh, sure, you could spend a Sunday morning on your cell phone, taking advantage of the free weekend minutes as you dutifully phone friends and family all over the country, trying to delicately steer conversations away from the unceasing, “So…seeing anyone? “ Followed by that horrible tsking sound, and then, “But you're such a pretty girl. Can't people see how pretty you are?”

Instead, put on a cute pair of jeans, a bissel makeup, you shouldn't look like a nafka but you shouldn't resemble this morning's lox either, and go fishing at the Home Depot. After all, you've got a net and you're not afraid to use it! On a Sunday morning, men that actually know something about a tongue and a groove will all be gathered in one place. How convenient. Even better, a decent percentage of them will be more than happy to help a sweet woman like you who hasn't a clue about spackle.

And since you're already outside, take a look around. Take a sniff, take a sneeze. It's spring, the season of allergies, pollen and love. See that good-looking bald man over there waiting for the valet? He could be The One. And there's that attractive neighbor woman who keeps walking her brand new puppy around the block. Hmmm – it must be time to water the front lawn. Again. But this time, say hello. Make with a nice wave. If nothing else, maybe the puppy will wave back.

In Southern California, the livin' is easy. Outdoor jazz concerts, day hikes, parks, fairs, the podiatrist … your world is literally one speed date after another.
According to my sister, “Love happens on the way to doing something else.” As if love's a runaway bus that'll flatten you all over the asphalt when you're not looking. She makes it sound as if we're walking targets, victims of Cupid's hapless arrows that might literally take us out any moment.

Sorry, but if I'm going to be taken out, I want some say in the matter.
I got news for my sister. Playing the victim is for other people. But as for me and you, my co-conspiring, single friend: the runaway bus is us.

To quote Auntie Mame: “Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starving to death.” Whether you believe in banquets, bread or pasta, it doesn't matter. But getting out there does.


Kimberly Gadette is a freelance writer and online dating consultant who works and re-works the profiles of e-lovebirds. Her monthly humor column can be read at www.popmatters.com.

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