My friend (who I'll call Shrinky Dink because she's a therapist and an artist) is dipping her toe in the murky waters of the dating world after a stressful divorce from The Planet's Biggest A-hole. Since she's a psychotherapist (how lucky am I, Crazy Papers herself, to have a therapist for a best friend?!), there's not much chance of meeting Mr. Right at work. (Inpatients have other things on their minds, you know. Not that some haven't tried...)
So I encouraged her to sign up for Match.com. My guitar-rocking, kilt-wearing, computer-nerd-and-proud-of-it dad has found success on Match.com, so I figured Shrinky Dink had a good shot too. She's a beautiful woman, a great mom, an excellent cook, and a fabulous writer. She's got game, y'all. She also has a crazy ex and three girls with the energy levels of Tasmanian Devils. Sooo, any guy for her has to be man enough to handle that.
She invited me over for a girls' night in (her clever way of luring me over to watch the Superbowl). Since football is boring (except for the butt-watching, that is), I amused myself by checking out her Match.com profile. I discovered that Match.com is a pretty handy way to get a feel for a person (and just as important, a way to covertly assess his grammar usage). I checked out the profiles of about twenty potential Mr. Shrinky Dinks before finding The One. He's a silver-haired, burly scientist who shares Shrinky Dink's love of Thai food, back porch philosophizing, and DIY projects. He looks professorial, but says he's a country boy at heart. So I "Winked" at him in her stead. And then I emailed him, identifying myself as her meddling best friend. He's an ecologist who likes fishing, so I cleverly "reeled" him in with fishing phrases. I wrote, "In a lake of minnows, you sound like the Big Catch." (Minnows live in lakes, right?) And amazingly, he wrote her back and suggested they meet for coffee and convo. Score!
We'll see whether he's a keeper or a catch and release.