In the beginning (because yes, I do now feel as though my infertility journey has become a story with a very distinct beginning), after my first surgery but before my second; I enlisted the services of a matchmaker. I had been trying to repair what had been broken with The Ex, but I never knew from one day to another how that was going to work. I did know that he was dating other women (a fact he almost prided himself on telling me; after all, I had dumped him – he could now date whoever he wanted), and I also knew that reproductive issues were clearly going to be a part of my future. I had no idea how bad it was going to be yet, but I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. I decided that if The Ex was dating, then I should be dating too. The problem was that everyone I knew, he knew. I just didn’t see how that was going to get me anywhere. Thus, I went and saw a matchmaker. I figured if anyone could find me my baby daddy, it would certainly be a person who has dedicated her life to such things.
I laid everything on the table. I told this woman about my past, my present, and my (hopeful) future. I told her I was ready to settle down and have babies, and that it was time for me to find Mr. Right. We talked for almost 2 hours, and the entire time she was writing down every word I said. It was intense! I really liked her though; I liked her philosophy and I liked everything she had to say – I was sold!
Until I saw her price sheets. Let me just tell you, there was no way. There was no way on this earth I was ever going to pay that much money to get a date. It wasn’t going to happen. For those prices, I could have rented a bar out myself, had hosted drinks, and invited every man in town. No way.
I told her no. I thanked her for her time, but I told her it wasn't possible that I could swing that (nor would I ever want to – I am not a girl who has to pay that kind of money for a date!) and I started to gather my things.
That’s when she stopped me. She told me that she had high paying clientele (to which I thought “more high paying than that?!?”) and that part of her job was to set some of those men up on dates with good looking, intelligent, and interesting women. She told me that I was exactly the kind of woman most of her clients were looking for, and that her job was to find them (the clients who had already paid the astronomical amounts) dates just as much as it was to bring in new clients. She told me we could help each other out, and she offered to give me her services for a fraction of the price; more in line with what I would have spent going out a few nights to bars looking for men.
I realized after the fact that I had basically just agreed to be an escort.
An escort who doesn’t get paid (or put out), but still an escort.
I had high hopes for my first day, until I met him. He was 40 (I am 26), balding, a good 3 inches shorter than me, and had never been married or had kids (although, he did say that he was now starting to think those things would be nice… at 40). Worse than any of that though, he was incredibly quiet. I’m not sure if I intimidated him, or if that was just his style, but… it was like pulling teeth to get a conversation out of him.
Now let me tell you something; I am a good dater. That is not bragging, it is just the truth. I am also good at job interviews. I know how to connect with people, and in a one on one situation I typically do pretty well (put me in a group situation though, and I slink into the shadows like a complete wallflower!) I do dates well. I don’t think I’ve ever been on a first date where the guy hasn’t asked for a second. Similarly, I don’t think I’ve ever been on a job interview where I haven’t been offered the position. I’m good at one on one.
So, I knew this guy was interested in me. I could see him warming up to me, and I just kept thinking “Turn it off. Stop being so nice! He is going to get the wrong idea!” But I couldn’t. I couldn’t sit there awkwardly and make it clear I wasn’t interested; I couldn’t be rude!
As the meal wore on, he let it be known that he made good money (because, what kind of classy guy wouldn’t drop hints about his paycheck on a first date?) and that he was really looking for a woman to “take care of”… I mention this only because it makes it even more amusing when I tell you that he thought it would be best if we split the check at the end of the meal.
Which I happily did, even though I had pasta and 1 glass of wine and he had steak and 3 beers. I didn’t want this guy thinking I owed him anything!
When I got the call the next day from the matchmaker that he had really liked me and wanted to know if he could have my personal information so we could start dating for real, I told her that under no circumstances should she give him my number.
Next.
I was a little surprised that a certified matchmaker would set me up with someone so clearly (on so many levels) not right for me, but I figured maybe it was just a fluke. I was totally ready to give her another try.
Which was when I went out with this guy, who very quickly turned out to be this guy.
Game over.
I was so overwhelmed by how many boundaries he seemed to cross, that I decided that maybe this whole thing wasn’t for me. Maybe guys who are willing to pay such ungodly amounts to find a date are willing to do so for a reason. And maybe my urgency to find my baby daddy (by the time I went on that date, I had learned that a baby likely needed to happen now or never) had clouded my ability to pay attention to what I really wanted. After all, I had agreed to go on a second date with Stalker Cop against my better judgment. I normally never even would have gone on a first date with him.
So, I pulled out. I called the matchmaker and told her that now just wasn’t the best time for me to be dating, and I asked her to remove me from her list.
Today I received an e-mail from her. She wanted to know what was going on in my life, and if I would like to start going on dates again soon.
Well... I wouldn’t mind going on a date now, but not so much with guys who are clearly not my type and have stalker potential.
Thanks, but no thanks.
I sent her a quick e-mail that listed all the different writing projects I’m working on right now, and how busy I've been. At the end I stated that I am pursuing IVF in November, and that I am very much so looking forward to my future as a mother.
Her response was “So… Would you like to remain on hold then?”
Yes. Yes, I would like to remain “on hold”. Preferably for life thank you!
Maybe I am being too hard on her, because she really was the nicest lady, but… Neither of the guys she set me up with were guys I would have picked for myself (not that the guys I’ve picked out for myself have been all that great!) and they both seemed to have some… issues. Possibly even bigger issues than my own.
I can only imagine the guys she would have found for me now that IVF is in my future.
“I’ve got this great girl! She is fun and smart and is planning on getting pregnant with a strange man’s sperm in just a few months. I’m sure you are going to love her!”
Talk about a weed out process! If I wasn’t getting the bottom of the barrel before, I don’t even want to know what I would be getting now.
Thanks, but no thanks.
I’ll just stick to making eyes at guys at the grocery store and hoping one of them get’s the hint.
ADSPACE
