Twice Cried

The following is a true story and may not be in good taste for all readers. The person who it's about gave permission to tell it and even to use his real name. For the sake of his wife and kids, I'll just call him 'Clive'.

Clive always buys his work pants a few sizes too big. He often works in small spaces and prefers the comfort of loose clothing. This choice means that wearing a belt is not optional. A belt is a must in order to avoid the constant mooning of co-workers and customers...although for those of us who know him, a half to full moon is not out of character for Clive.

One day, Clive left for work and forgot his belt at home. Arriving at the factory, he realized that the zip ties amongst his tools were the perfect length to serve as a belt for the day. So, he slipped on his pseudo-plastic belt and began the job. As he worked the line, another job was working it's way out, Job #2. He held off on #2 for as long as he could but after about an hour, he hustled his way to other end of the factory, avoiding any unnecessary chatter that would delay his arrival. Once he arrived at the "job site", all the sensors in his body knew where they were and the alarms were blaring. It was now or never. However, "now" was hampered by the fact that he had a fast-secured zip tie for a belt and his tools were a long way away from the washroom. In fact, Clive had effectively zip locked himself into his own pants. The state of urgency was so high that with much struggle and a layer of skin, Clive was able to do what he came to do.

The relief was short-lived. As Clive sat on his white throne, it dawned on him that he still had to get his pants back up. Getting them down had already been painful and his skin was red and raw from that initial experience. The zip tie was firmly fastened. Chewing through the plastic would be impossible and wire cutters meant a walk across the factory floor with his pants around his ankles. Clive eyed the canister of liquid soap hanging on the bathroom wall. Greasing up his stinging legs and hips, Clive lay on the floor, and slipped his zip-tied pants up.

Moral of the story: If you're going to buy pants that are too big, don't forget your belt or you'll be once shittin' and twice cried.

$72 and a Handful of Change.

I did what I swore I would never do. So many others had done it and were doing it before they got married, so I thought, "Why not?" I did it late one April night, in a moment when my senses were momentarily lost. As soon as the deed was done, I smacked my forehead and lamented, "What have I done?" One click of a button and I was officially a member of eHarmony (eH).

It actually took more than one click of a button. Preparing one's profile is an arduous affair that took me about two hours to finish. It costs $24 and a handful of change per month and I signed up for three...just three...no more than three months. I figured that I would sacrifice a few other social affairs, like paintball, for the opportunity to try the "#1 Trusted Relationship Site - Move Beyond "Traditional" On-line Dating". "Traditional On-line Dating" seemed like a contradiction of terms to me.

The matching began in a fury and from all across Canada. Somehow, in all the time that it took me to fill in the information, I missed the part where it lets you limit your scope to people in your area. I didn't change it. Hey, if Mr. Right was on the West Coast, I'd pack my bags tomorrow. There were seven new matches everyday. I probably have 130+ matches in the cue, waiting for my perusal. 130 matches!! This should excite me and nurture my hope that yes, there is someone out there just waiting for me, a truly compatible match. Au contraire, I find it overwhelming and even suffocating. I did not realize how open and inclandescent the whole gong show was going to be. One knows every person who has looked at his or her profile. They know when you close the match. I closed a few matches based on looks, weight, poor grammar or atrocious spelling. It fostered a spirit of superficiality in me that I did not feel comfortable with. I have loved average looking guys who were gorgeous to me simply because of their character and humour. I did not like juggling communication with four different men at a time. My sensitivities were marred when I felt dismissed and or when I chose to ignore the requests for communication from interested courtiers.

After three weeks, a match did peak my interest. However, after a month of fantastic emailing and one date, that "perfectly compatible match" came to an end as well. Needless to say, eH has been an unsatisfactory, even irritating, experience for me. The question that I have asked myself from the beginning is this: Am I a daughter of the slave woman (Hagar) or the free woman (Sara)? God had promised a son to Abraham and Sara, but they tried to complete God's promise by having Hagar bear a son. Was I trying to manipulate God's purpose for my life through my own wiles and schemes too? Was eH my attempt to force his hand in the relationship realm? Perhaps. Or maybe it was an impulsive act in a moment of boredom. I will continue to believe that God is good and I trust his plan for my life. I'm not saying eH is wrong, but I am saying that for me it was a waste of time...not to mention $72 and a handful of change.