Divine Intervention From My Husband

Bill and me in Lodi, CA, 2021

“A Wiccan, narcissist and adulterer walk into a bar…”

This is not a poor ChatGPT joke. I actually matched with a Wiccan, got ‘liked’ by a narcissist, and connected to a married man last week on the dating apps.

You can’t make this up and I’m not.

If you are married, committed, or in a functional relationship, stay put. You do not want to be out here with me.

I don’t typically post in proximity to my experiences but this last week was rough and worthy of a collective group laugh.

The seven-days-of-summer-men ushered in a new, and bizarre, low-point in my dating journey. 

I am happy to report that I did not meet any of them but here’s how it went down.

Wednesday: The Wiccan

Wiccan (practicing witch) 79% match score; 55 years old. Housebound 24/7/365 days a year.  ABSOLUTELY no one under age 35. No Men. ABSOLUTELY NO ONE from Nigeria or Ghana.  I’m VERY ANTI-SMOKING. But I guess it doesn’t really matter since I am PHYSICALLY UNABLE TO LEAVE MY HOUSE.

So, if I unpack this objectively, I am over 35, female by gender and preference, and I do live in America. I don’t smoke, and most of you know that I’m not a wicked witch (okay, well maybe sometimes but not very often). I am admittedly older than him though, and I am not in the geographic radius I have provided the app for matching purposes.  The alchemy of the algorithm is clearly off. 

Um, yeah, this was an easy no.

Thursday-Friday: The Narcissist

The Italian stallion arrives. Well, he certainly thought so. 

He’s working full time and launching a start-up. We have a few nice text exchanges, a phone call and a video chat because he wanted to confirm that I was the person depicted in my profile and get ‘eyes on me.' I successfully pass through his gates and we begin to arrange a date to meet. 

I am extremely ambivalent, but free all weekend and about to travel to Columbia for a month, so why not?

And then the following text messages arrive.

“So…my schedule: M-TU off, generally work 6-4 or so on the business, occasionally chat with my team later in the evening Wed 12-8 Thurs – Fri 8-4 Sat 9-6 Sun 11-6 every 3rd week 10 -6. I am also in the process of meeting investors through my network and at pitch events.  For example, this Monday 5- 8:30 investor dinner in Palo Alto (maybe 70 attendees, mostly investors, and maybe 12-15 startup CEOS) The Wed, I’m taking the day off and doing a big pitch event 11-6. I can always find time to meet, dinner, glass of wine (yes/no to wine?) love to dance, Thurs, Fri Sat, Sun nights are fine. Sat, Sun better. Can generally be flexible on Mon-Tues.”

It’s 8:35 a.m.

Could I just get a ‘Good Morning?'

ME: “Good morning. Thanks for the schedule.  Admittedly, it stressed me out a bit because I probably have PTSD from my work life when I did all of this myself. Having said that it's really cool what you are doing and I'm 100 percent cheering you on. Unwinding all of that with no caffeine yet is not possible for me. Can we just reverse engineer this? I'm free most nights.”

The man: “I don't carry stress in general.”

Ah, no, dude, you inflict it.

ME: “You know I'm teasing you right?”

The man: “Teasing me about what?”

ME: “The schedule stuff.”

Clearly, he is starring in his own mega-hit show.

By Saturday morning, I’ve decided this is a non-starter and make other plans for the evening.  We had set a date and he was going to text a location which I had yet to receive.

The following text arrives around 1 p.m. Saturday.

“Sorry, didn't mean to ghost you! Got buried here yesterday and had some logistics issues, so was here much longer than expected. Still, I've thought about my schedule and I think I’m going to bow out of contention here. Wrong time for me to be traveling 30-45 minutes each way to see you with two full time gigs. Sorry, you'll have no problem finding a replacement.”

Okay, Mr. Upper Hand.  Ciao Italian stallion.  I had already tapped out anyway.

Sunday-Wednesday: The Married Man

I begin an exchange with a singer/songwriter with a day job who posted art on his profile depicting two people coming together which I found compelling and conveyed something beautiful and gentle. We text for a bit and he asks a few good questions so we arrange to talk on the phone. 

It was an easy conversation about connection and life. He was smart, funny, warm, insightful, intuitive and, to me, conveyed some depth, and perhaps even, an old soul.

It was the first and only time in the last seven months on this dating journey that I was truly looking forward to meeting someone, not just filling time, booking experiences or just curious.

We exchange texts over the next few days, establishing more common ground and connection and set a time to meet for dinner Wednesday.

He calls Wednesday morning to tell me his wife was having a panic attack about him dating and that this was almost ‘killing her.’ This is quite the situationship.

Red flags flying everywhere.  Lots of drama and pain.

Ouch, for all of us: especially them.

He was honest, and for that, I am grateful and give him props.  Bummer because I liked this one, and he is totally unavailable.  This makes me wonder if I’m unavailable too.  Am I somehow attracting unavailable people and not connecting to anyone because I’m not quite ready?  Part of me, yes; part of me, no.

I send him the following text message, “I believe in love.  If you think there’s any shot at saving your marriage, lean in hard and make it work.  And if after you’ve done that – given it everything you have – and it still doesn’t feel right, then make a clean break and grieve the loss.  Walk through the portal. It’s the only way to the other side. But I’m 1000 percent rooting for you and your wife. You seemed like a good guy.”

These three experiences have me feeling like road kill at this point.

It was time for divine intervention. 

I imagined what my late husband would have to say about all of this. 

Bill was a good man.  Simple, solid, no drama, no-nonsense but really fun.  He let me do my thing - be me and seldom got too worked up about my crazy.

But, these seven-days-of-summer-men would have been the breaking point for him to intervene. 

First, he would shake his head and give me “the look” - you know, the one a spouse has when they disapprove of something.

It would have gone something like this.

“Claire, (when I was going to sort-of get chewed out he would say my name first) what in the hell are you doing?  Why are you letting these people in your life?  You are worthy of much more and these guys are idiots. I’ve been watching you now for a while, and I haven’t said anything, but this is just dumb. You need to get your act together, get off the apps and regroup.”

Transcendental, eternal, dating advice from my dead husband. 

All fair points. I do not disagree. 

ME: But babe, you are not in the material world anymore and you did not have to deal with this when you were here, so cut me a break for a minute. 

BILL: I hear you, but this is ridiculous.  You need to make a list of non-negotiables and stick to it. Cut off contact quickly and don’t let the men have the upper hand.

ME: "Okay, okay…

1.      No married dudes - be divorced and done with your ex. (Well, that was always on the list; this one slipped through the cracks and we did not meet.)

2.      No Wiccans or other cult-like people. (Agreed. This one also slipped through the cracks due to a faulty algorithm.  Not my fault, but you have to admit it’s pretty funny.)

3.      No narcissists. Read the profiles better; use the Burned Haystack Rhetorical Method and don’t compromise.  (Am improving in this space and will employ harsher screening.)

4.      No recycling. (I’m not!)

5.      Take appropriate breaks. (I am!)

6.      Be healthy and available – physically and emotionally, and now I’ve learned, legally."

I hear him say, “Good start and pretty basic.  Since I’m on the other side, I’d say, avoid people who are somehow engaged in the Seven Deadly Sins – pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony and sloth.  It doesn’t work out well for them over here.”

This is now cracking me up and I begin to brainstorm a list of how he would define some of these unavailable, unacceptable men from the universe.   

For the hard no’s”

·        Eternally damaged

·        On life-support

·        Terminal illness

·        Dead-on-arrival

·        Lucifer

·        Already 6-feet under

For the ‘maybe’s (who probably should be in the hard no category anyway)

·        Exhibits signs of life-purgatory

·        Believes in angels and demons and able to discern between the two

·        Does not need significant medication to function in the physical world

·        Does not preach, deliver sermons or mansplain

For the yeses

·        Has a soul, conscience and warm heart

·        Growth minded and loves to travel

·        Good communicator and consistent

·        No fish, dead birds, or other assorted carcasses on, or near, the profile page

·        No typos, missing words or ALL CAPS

·        No Trumpsters

·        Asks good questions, does not take himself too seriously and makes you laugh

·        Thinks nature, and you, are darn-near Godly

ME: “I miss you and wish you were here.”

BILL: “Me too, babe.”

ME: “Love you.”

BILL: “Love you back.”

ME: “Thanks, if you can intervene in the universal disconnect I seem to be experiencing right now, I would be eternally grateful.”

BILL: “Will do if possible, but you’ve got this babe.”