Thursday 16 April, 2009Dating with Intent

Okay, I admit it. I have to move some heavy furniture this weekend, and could use some help. However, that's not to say that I only appreciate the brawn in my men. I like the brains part, too.

For instance, I don't know a thing about plumbing. My toilet is running (please! No "Well, then you'd better run and catch it" jokes,) my shower drains too slowly and my washing machine has the tendency to back up into my kitchen sink.

My front porch light is out, and I bought a replacement fixture. But, which fuse works that area of the house? Hell if I know. No, wait. I really mean: Hell if I want to know. I suppose I could just turn off the electricity to the whole house, but I am afraid of electrocution, and normally only think of it in terms of punishment – inflicted upon somebody else, thank you.

No, I don't want to know how to fix my car. I wrench words, not auto parts. For certain  things, I need an expert.

These needs are augmented all the time by my parents, who worry about my home falling down around my ankles while I charge ahead and date people who can't screw in a light bulb.

"What you need, is a mechanic," my dad will invariably say as he shakes his head under the hood of my car.

"Why don't you get some nice carpenter," my mom chirps loudly in her Brooklyn accent from the bathroom, every time she sits on the toilet. One can almost her her shudder at the direct view of the unfinished cabinetry across from her.

Dating inept handymen has definitely become a problem. I'm considering having some residual extruded pipes bronzed along side of that cabinet where a sink was moved, to commemorate Unfinished Projects Left Behind By Boyfriends Past.

 I need someone not only with talent, but enough staying power to finish the job, and I mean that in a literal sense.

So, I decided that a little screening of my dates might be in order, and tried it out at my favorite coffee shop where there are lots of tables and quiet places to be alone, or at least be able to concentrate.

"Just fill this out and call me when you've finished," I said as I slid the clipboard in front of my date's latte. "I'll be right over there." I pointed to an empty seat in front of the coffee bar.

"But … but this is the test for getting a contractor's license!" he sputtered.

"Don't worry about a thing. I checked with your last girlfriend, and she says you won't even break a sweat," I said, while doing a patting-of-the-hand/handing over a cheap ballpoint pen maneuver. "Don't forget to list the addresses of your previous projects so that I can evaluate for quality control."

I haven't yet graded the applicants' exams, but plan on doing that during my next date with a substitute teacher. (During the summer months, he works for a roofing company.) I was kind of hoping for someone who doesn't specialize, but I'll check his tool belt to see if maybe some other talents will emerge.