Awake

Recently I exchanged emails with a lovely man on a dating site. He was just my type. I know my type because my girlfriend made me make out a list of the important qualities I would need in a man for him to qualify as boyfriend material.

“Be specific,” she said, “and do it now, while I’m sitting here watching you.”
I grabbed a piece of scrap paper and scribbled, ‘smart, funny, kind,’ then added, ‘employed.’ I handed my friend the paper, saying, “here.” She handed it back and said now go put it under your pillow.
“All the way upstairs?”
“Yes,” she said, “I’ll wait.”
I said, “So, you’re saying this won’t work if I put it in the cheese drawer of my refrigerator?”
“Under your pillow, smartass,” she said.
So I did. And she waited.

Apparently it worked. This guy’s profile was smiling, smart, age-appropriate and there was no inappropriate use of quotation marks-- as in, “I really ‘enjoy’ canoeing.” We liked similar movies, similar music and he seemed sweet and funny on the phone. We made a plan to meet for a quick lunch and I told him to call anytime after 8am to firm our plans and that I had until 2pm. He said that he hoped he would be awake in time. I thought, hmm, awake? Well, that’s when most people call, after they wake up. Did he mean awake in time to have lunch? Well, I guess I’ll find out.

At 10:45am he emailed. He apologized for not contacting me sooner, not because he had just woken up but because he hadn’t gone to sleep yet-- from the night before. Apparently the stress of being bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in order to meet potential lady friends had taken its toll and he had been suffering from debilitating insomnia for a while now, or more specifically, ever since he joined the dating site scene. But then he added brightly that he really liked the way I write and wouldn’t it be fun to continue emailing? Then he wrapped up with, “Why don’t you tell me all about yourself? That way I can reply at 3am when I’m awake and you’re asleep.”

I thought about his offer for about four minutes, then I wrote back to him. Very politely and with grace and empathy I wrote that although he was clearly a great guy, I wasn’t looking for a pen pal. I wrote that I want to see his face and hear his laugh. I want to go to the movies, hold hands and maybe split a chocolate nut brownie ala mode—none of which I could do to my level of satisfaction online. I wished him well and said that if he every gets his sleeping issues in order, he would be welcome to call. He wrote me a very friendly, understanding response.

That night as I was arranging my pillows for bed—at 10pm-- I came across that rumpled piece of paper; the list. I took it out and read it again. It never occurred to me that I would have to be so specific. I just assumed that there were some things that were a given; some things that I could actually take for granted. But, apparently not. I would have to be very specific. So I grabbed a pen off my night stand and scrolled down my rumpled list; smart, funny, kind, employed,” then I added, “nice to kids, likes his mother, chews with mouth closed,” and “awake.”