Chapter 9

"Normal is in the eye of the beholder."

After I received my final divorce decree, I asked friends if they knew any men who wanted to date a bald chick. Sadly, I found no single men with a bald fetish. So poor little Scarlet NoHaira was forced to wait to reenter the dating scene. When I finished treatment and had grown a respectable amount of hair, I began dating. I think I’d rather face chemotherapy again.

I originally thought I would not encumber my dating experience by setting unrealistic standards. I would give everyone a chance. Shortly after, I got to know a man from church. He was significantly older, a theme I’ve found throughout dating. It seems men only want to date much younger women. The man bagged groceries at the supermarket. He was illiterate. He came to the church office for help. I wrote addresses on his envelopes for mailing. He asked me out. I decided to set at least a minimum standard for dating: the men had to be literate.

I joined a Catholic singles Bible study in a large affluent church. I assumed the potential would be greater in that environment. Wrong. I met another older gentleman there. He offered, unsolicited, the following information: He lives in a small rural community on several acres. He mows his grass in a loincloth. He does not believe in banks and has no checking account. He doesn’t use natural gas and rarely uses electricity. He cuts his own firewood and kills or grows his own food. He also states, without prompting, because no one would ask such a thing, he doesn’t use toilet paper; he uses cornhusks. I have sensitive skin and only use premium TP brands. He invited me to his farm for a home-caught and cooked meal. I kindly declined and decided I need a new dating standard: the men must be literate and must use toilet paper.

The first time I met another semi-attractive man, he described in detail how he stole motorcycles. He was apparently good at stealing, because he’d never been caught. He told me at the end of our casual dinner I was "cute enough" to call again. OK, so I needed a new, new standard: the men must be literate, must use toilet paper, and must be law abiding.

Fiddle-dee-dee, I'm still a single she.

Not too long after that, I met another diamond in the rough. This man spent over an hour describing his LSD trips. How he thought he was flying, how he nearly jumped out a window, and how he thought his hand was on fire. This news may surprise you, but I didn’t ask how to steal motorcycles or what acid-induced hallucinations were like. Yet similar to the thief above, the druggie chose to reveal this information the first time we met. Those were their put-your-best-foot-forward topics of conversation. Can you imagine what they could be hiding? Time to set a new, new, new standard: no illiterates, no TP substitutes, no grand larceny, and no illegal drug use.

I briefly tried an online Christian dating service. A man from India began e-mailing me. Logistics aside, he stated he was a Catholic priest. Obviously he was not too knowledgeable about Catholicism, because he didn’t realize priests took vows of celibacy. Time for a new, new, new, new standard: no illiteracy, no cornhusks, no outstanding warrants, no illegal drug use, and no broken vows, real or fabricated.

Sigh, poor little Scarlet NoHaira is still single. I know it’s because I’m way too picky. Do I get discouraged about dating? Of course, look at what I’m up against. How do I handle it? Sometimes I feel depressed and cry. I also laugh at myself and my unique dating experiences. I gripe to friends and I pray.

One thing I’m convinced of: no relationship is worth compromising my values. Sometimes that has a price. I often feel rejected by men because of my faith. I actually have been out with normal men. Our values often clash. The second time I went out with one gentleman, he asked to see my bedroom. Hint. Hint. I politely declined and he never called again.