by Jennifer Cox
But we’re so busy working, we don’t have the time to find the person we want to move on with. So we turn to the labor-saving devices on the market, designed to lead us to Mr. Right in the small amount of time we have allocated to the task. A perfect example of this is online dating. Online dating seems convenient because you can do it surreptitiously from your desk, during meetings at work, or with flirtatious, drunken abandon when you get home in the early hours of Saturday morning. That’s pretty much where the convenience ends, though, because no matter how good the profile and nice the picture, you need to know more about him before deciding if he’s worth meeting. So, you chat back and forth via email, maybe send a text message or two, then you’re ready to talk on the phone. The first physical contact (i.e., ear-to-ear) is crunch-time since you can generally tell from his voice and conversation if you want to meet him or not. Unfortunately, it’s generally “not” but by this point you’re involved with him and finding a reason to end that involvement—even though you don’t know him—is cringingly hard (tip: keep a fictitious “unresolved ex” up your sleeve for these occasions). Hope turns to guilt as you become locked into a continuous and exhausting process of assessing candidates, like interviewing people for a job you know they’ll never get. And in the meantime, that’s another two hours a day spent in front of your computer. Something has to change. Enough of these relationship patches, which, like nicotine patches, stave off the need without satisfying any of the desire. I wanted a fantastic, glorious, wonderful relationship. Otherwise, what’s the point?
But for this to happen, I knew I needed to make a better job of meeting Mr. Right. I felt I’d tried everything in London. Maybe it was time for a more radical and far-reaching solution?
Rather than traveling to recover from Mr. Wrong, what if I went traveling to find Mr. Right? I mean, I was sure Fate had him out there waiting for me, so why was I wasting time in London moaning when I could be out in the world searching? I’d put my heart and soul into my job; maybe it was time I put the same amount of effort into my love life.
So, after some soul-searching, I quit my job at Lonely Planet. I had a new job now: finding my Soul Mate.
The business and management skills I’d developed over the years would most likely come in handy. Making programs for the BBC had honed my research and interviewing skills. Setting up and running Lonely Planet’s European publicity and promotional operations meant devising campaigns while jumping on and off planes to oversee launches and train staff, plus doing a ton of interviews and public speaking stints. Like anybody with a big, fat job, to do this well I’d had to be able to network, research, talk people into doing things they weren’t that keen on, time-manage, meet deadlines, budget, and plan.
So, traveling would be the answer to London’s dearth of suitable men, and my professional skills would hopefully lead me to possible candidates, eliminating the unsuitable, undesirable, and unstable from among them. But where should I start looking? I couldn’t just get off a plane in another country shouting, “Soul Mate, I’m here. Come and get me.” I was confident Fate had a number of them out there for me to meet (as I’ve already said, I believe we have more than one), but where, and who could they be?
I decided that the first step to answering this question was to work out who they had been. If finding my Soul Mate was now my job, as with any other job I’d need to put together an up-to-date résumé. A Relationship Résumé: a document that set out my romance history, giving me an insight into the kind of person I’d gone for in the past. In short, whom I dated and when; the role I undertook in the relationship and the reasons for leaving it. Based on that, I then needed to write a Soul Mate Job Description, outlining the position I was looking to fill. The task was too big for me alone, but I was hoping that my global network of friends would help. If I emailed them the Soul Mate Job Description, they could act as Date Wranglers, sending it out to their global network of friends and corralling suitable dates for me around the world.
The more I thought about it, the more I wondered why I hadn’t done this sooner.
Okay, the Relationship Résumé:
DATE: 1984–85
TITLE: First Love
COMPANY: William
MAJOR RESPONSIBILITIES: Going to festivals; riding around on the back of a motorbike; protesting at Greenham Common; finding politics; losing virginity.
REASONS FOR LEAVING: Laid off; replaced by someone who drank Bacardi Breezers.
DATE: 1985–89
TITLE: First Live-in Relationship
COMPANY: Peter
MAJOR RESPONSIBILITIES: Learning to cook; having lots of dinner parties; buying things for the flat; having Sunday lunch with his family; getting engaged.
REASONS FOR LEAVING: Applied for a position overseas.
DATE: 1989–95
TITLE: Wife
COMPANY: Philip
MAJOR RESPONSIBILITIES: Being spontaneous and not worrying too much about tomorrow; sharing adventures; being supportive of each other’s dreams; saying “No, Philip, that’s too crazy.”
REASONS FOR LEAVING: Was relocated back to the U.K.
DATE: January 1996
TITLE: Transition Relationship
COMPANY: Dan
MAJOR RESPONSIBILITIES: Drinking Jack Daniel’s and staying up very late; watching a lot of Tarantino films; listening to heavy-metal music; bursting into tears.
REASONS FOR LEAVING: Short-term contract.
DATE: February–June 1996
TITLE: Career Advisor
COMPANY: Edmund
MAJOR RESPONSIBILITIES: Going over to his house or sitting on the phone every night and listening to what he had written that day on his book. Criticism was not welcome, only attention and praise.
REASONS FOR LEAVING: Communication breakdown.
DATE: August 1996
TITLE: Fellow Adventurer
COMPANY: Jason
MAJOR RESPONSIBILITIES: Swapping travel stories and talking about all the crazy places we had been/both wanted to go.
REASONS FOR LEAVING: I met Jason a week before he was due to set off to pedal the planet for four years. NB: Carried out some freelance work for this company over Xmas.
DATE: 1997–98
TITLE: Company Trustee
COMPANY: Grant
MAJOR RESPONSIBILITIES: Listening to Grant complain about his ex-wife and how glad he was they had split up.
REASONS FOR LEAVING: They hadn’t split up.
DATE: 1999–2004
TITLE: Coco the Clown
COMPANY: Kelly
MAJOR RESPONSIBILITIES: Feeling everything was my fault and that I was too demanding/needy/neurotic/successful; believing things would get better if I could only understand what the problem was.
REASONS FOR LEAVING: I was unwilling to job-share.
Hmmm. Writing the Relationship Résumé had been an illuminating but not terribly uplifting experience: It looked like I hadn’t been in a good relationship for ages. For a moment I wondered if I was better off forgetting about romantic relationships and sticking to having fun with my millions of other single female friends.
But that was silly. My single friends wanted to be in a relationship as much as I did; even if I wimped out and stayed single, there was no guarantee they’d stay that way (and I hoped for all their sakes they wouldn’t—I wanted them to meet their Mr. Rights, too).
No, I wanted to be in a good relationship. I missed having that close connection with one person, feeling that I was at the center of something rather than bobbing around the edges. But I wanted one of the early happy-style relationships, not one of the hard, rubbish ones I seemed to have specialized in in recent years. Clearly the Soul Mate Job Description needed serious consideration if I was to avoid disappointment and disaster.
First I needed to decide on the kind of person I wanted to meet. Well, since I was five feet eleven, height was very important: I needed the chemistry when someone’s tall enough to put his arm around my shoulders—I ab
solutely could not date someone shorter than me. I wanted someone who was affectionate without being overbearing—such a hard one to get right. Someone who was smart, funny, and adventurous and had his own friends. Since divorced men have a marriage-shaped hole in their lives that they are looking to quickly fill, and single women have a disaster-shaped hole in their lives they want to keep empty for as long as possible, I didn’t want someone who was going to take me over completely.
What else? An interest in music was good, too much interest in TV was bad. I am a vegetarian, and although I don’t mind meat-eaters, anyone with a love of offal should probably not apply. I don’t like smokers (good-bye, Jean Pierre) but distrust anyone who doesn’t drink. They don’t have to have their own library card, but a few books on the shelf would be good (science fiction and self-help don’t count). I don’t mind guys who are slightly overweight, but “man breasts” are a complete no-no. Skinny guys are out: If their waists are smaller than my thighs, it’s not going to work. I quite like laid-back guys, but absolutely no slackers, potheads, or wannabe poets (if I want to see the beauty in anything, I’ll go to the Mac cosmetics counter, thank you very much). Sporty is good, but don’t expect me to come watch if it’s raining.
Having said all of that, I was open-minded and probably needed to challenge what I thought my type of man really was—with the exception of man breasts and offal; they were non-negotiable.
The next step was to assemble my network of Date Wranglers (DWs), including Belinda, Charlotte, Simon, Cath, Ian, Eleanor, Sara-Jane, Hector, Jeannette, Jo, Posh PR Emma, Paula, Sophie, Madhav, Jill, Matt, Lizzy, Grainne…All old friends, either in the travel industry or journalists who have worked overseas for years. These First-Generation Date Wranglers all had an extensive network of contacts and friends around the world, who would be either Dates or second- or third-generation Date Wranglers in their own right. I’d already talked to everyone about my plans, but it was now time to send out a briefing email and get the team to work.
Dear Date Wranglers
A few of you have asked what kind of person I’m looking to meet and what I want to do on the date (thank you, Sophie—José the Chilean sheep farmer sounds lovely. And Jo, yes, Jason the Buddhist lawyer in Nova Scotia might be perfect). I’ve pasted a Soul Mate Job Description below. Please read it carefully. If it sounds like a single someone you know anywhere in the world, and they’d be willing to date me, please let me know. I’ll then sit down with a list of potential Dates and pick the ones that look most promising and fall relatively easily into a route around the world. Dinner at my house on the 12th for questions/brainstorming/reality check.
Lots of love, J xx
Soul Mate Job Description
I am a 38-year-old writer living in London. I’ve done a bit of traveling over the years and am planning another big trip soon. When not schlepping my backpack on and off Indian trains, maxing my card at Macy’s, or eating gelati in Italy, I love London Life. Sunday papers and coffee with my friends, plus shows, gigs, and movies. I’m a bit sporty, especially running (though not very far or fast) and cycling (see “running”). I’m bad at spelling but good at cooking. I sing along to music and always seem to forget Xmas cards till the last minute. I’m fairly laid-back about most things, though get pathetically competitive playing poker.
And what am I looking for in a man?
I’m pretty tall at five foot eleven but old-fashioned enough to want to feel “ladylike,” so looking for someone over six foot. What else? Well, I’d like to meet someone who makes me smile, lets me read them bits out of the newspaper, has beliefs they’re willing to arm-wrestle for, and tells me interesting things I didn’t know. Like me, you’ll believe that life is short and you should make the most of it; unlike me, you’ll probably realize that TV isn’t real and remain calm when Lassie doesn’t come home. An interest in music and books is good, a sense of fun and adventure essential.
The response was instant, overwhelming, and very reassuring: everyone was fired up with suggestions and ideas. Maybe all my competitive friends just wanted to prove they each had the best contacts, but I actually think everyone genuinely wanted to help and believed that they had just the person for me.
Queries started flooding in. Sophie bluntly asked:
Do you want to sleep with them all or just dinner/chat about life etc…? Lemme know, it’ll influence who I put you onto. Love S
I have to be honest, this panicked me a bit. My journey had already been dubbed “Around the World in Eighty Lays” by most of my friends. I automatically replied with an It’s not about sex, it’s about romance mantra but was secretly worrying whether every date was going to end in a wrestling match.
Posh PR Emma rang and asked in cut-glass tones if I wanted to date a count. Her impeccable accent made the o completely silent. Realizing how it sounded, she kept repeating the question, which drew attention to the mispronunciation, making it worse. I felt like replying: “Ems, I’ve already dated so many.”
As my DWs went to work and word of what I was doing began buzzing around, potential dates started pouring in. Every morning I would log on to find up to a hundred emails from people looking to get involved.
First-generation DWs introducing me to second-generation DWs:
Jennifer, meet Abigail, she is the most high-flying woman in New York—head honcho, inspired party gal, groovy traveling companion of many years and dear, dear friend…AND I think she has the perfect date for you…she will tell you more…I can’t wait to hear the outcome…SJ xxxxxx
Third-generation DWs signing up and asking for basic clarification:
Does he need to speak English? Would you be willing to go on a ménage à trois with a translator? Hannah, emailing from Budapest
Giving me a wake up and smell the fertility reality check:
P.S. You say you don’t want to date men younger than thirty. I have two words for you: sperm motility. If you’re still in the race to have a child before, say, forty-five, you’ll need energetic critters rather than those about to retire. Leslie, emailing from Moscow
And forcing me to face the facts:
These are the details of the English lady I was telling you about: I hope she sounds interesting to you. She’s a very nice lady, aged thirty-eight (but this is quite normal in the U.K. to be old and still single)….
And so read the email trail between Alex and his friend Beaver in Lithuania.
At the same time that I was being contacted by DWs and their Dates, I was also out looking for myself, spending hours on the Internet researching places or events that might yield my Soul Mate. Anything to do with Love or a love of mine should have potential, I reasoned. I scoured the search engines like an intrepid love detective sleuthing for clues that would help me identify and locate my missing man. In some instances, this threw up dreadful red herrings. I am a huge devotee of the yeast spread Marmite, for example, and thought this might make me compatible with the man who ran a Marmite appreciation website in America:
I started the Marmite site because I take Marmite into work with me on a Friday (the company I work for supplies breakfast, mainly bagels though we do have toast as well and sometimes yogurt, though I don’t have Marmite with the yogurt. Just the bagels. And the toast, if they’ve run out of bagels). Other than eating Marmite, I write information management and delivery software for the Internet….
Thankfully, other leads proved to be more fruitful, such as the Costco Soul Mate Trading Outlet, one of the theme camps at the annual Burning Man Festival, held in the Nevada desert. I didn’t totally understand what they were about, but I did manage to establish that Costco was a kind of anarchic dating agency at the festival. The CEO, Rico Thunder, agreed that I could be part of their camp and work on their “front desk” in exchange for some light flirting duties. I felt I’d have some useful expertise to contribute by the time I’d made it through Europe and the West Coast of America to Nevada, plus I fully intended to skim off any suitable Soul Mates for myself. Rico also
put me in touch with a Seattle-based audio engineer in TV sports who was one of the Costco crew. He matched my Soul Mate Job Description perfectly and emailed:
The things you write in your description could have been written by me! What is up with that?
Love: Cooking, building/restoring cars (just finished an Alfa), music, road trips
Hate: Working out (still do it), rigid people, being cold for long periods of time, speed bumps
The only way I could cope with the huge volume of correspondence was to ruthlessly compartmentalize. In the process of establishing a tentative rapport with the desirables and gently filtering out the inadvisables, Europe was given priority over America, which in turn took precedence over Australasia.
Big picture, that was how I saw my route working: Europe, U.S., Australasia. It wasn’t logical from a geographical point of view, but it made it possible to attend specific events at certain times, plus—as importantly—ensured that I’d always be traveling with the sun. This meant I could stay warm, pack light, and see people at their/my most foxy. There are valid reasons that all the feel-good songs—“Summer Breeze,” “Summer Lovin”—“Summer of ’69”—are written about the summer rather than the miserable winter months. Who looks good with chapped lips and a scarf?
Communication all had to be via email: It was the only way I could keep track of what I’d said to whom, and reply to people in my own time rather than real time. Most people were fine with this but occasionally someone insisted that we had to speak on the phone: