You're Putting a Rush on Me

In the space of two weeks, my social life has become a bit complicated.

On July 19, I subscribed to a three-month membership in eHarmony, the Web site that features the song "This Will Be" in its television commercials. Well, I have 34 matches, with one who is so interested in me that, as he put it in an e-mail, "I want you, only you."

Which elicited from me the following response: "WTF?"

He's a 57-year-old Caucasian widower from San Francisco who has a 12-year-old son. He sells German car parts and computers. From his e-mails, he can't write to save his own life. I sometimes have problems deciphering his e-missives. He is a Christian (perhaps Catholic, from his mention of consulting his priest) who is serious about finding his soul mate.

Eventually, I'd like to find a soul mate. But I'd like to meet some of my matches first before making any decisions.

Therein lies the problem. We're not in the same place. He seems to think I'm what he's looking for. But at this time my feelings aren't reciprocal. I asked the gent to slow down, to which he agreed.

Also, there is the situation with my "work flirt." A recent newspaper horoscope for Virgo read: "You have undeniable chemistry with someone -- a magnetic attraction that you forget about until you return to the vicinity of this person." Indeed, that's what I have with this colleague. When I showed his photo to a friend, she said, "He's pretty darn hot." Every time I see him, I feel as if I look like Elwood the Chinest crested dog, who once won the Ugliest Dog in the World Contest. He's almost completely hairless except with a tuft of white hair, and his tongue hangs out.

I will meet the e-Harmony gent and give him a chance. At this moment, however, his chances are still slim.

Writing Diva