Dating with a view to marriage is no other thing than work. I am a writer in New York, but Sex & the City this ain’t. Carrie had friends who weren’t repopulating the planet. She had fancy shoes. I have fuzzy Crocs. I get commuter rail and Brooklyn birthday parties. She got limos and glam soirees. I actually exist.
This is a project and it is a schlep. I used to believe in surgical strikes, now I’m carpet bombing. I’m on three different dating websites. I ask total strangers if they know anyone single because I have dated the pool of my friends’ friends’ friends dry. Somewhere, someone is going to make me laugh and swoon. I haven’t met him yet. I’m trying.
I hope it will end. Happily.
Did I tell you about the writer, Sarah Rose? By gosh!
She had 48 dates all with lawyers named Josh.
Well she did. And that wasn’t a fun thing to do.
She put her pic on the web and they all cried ‘Yoo Hoo!’
“How on earth did you know I’m looking for a Jew?”
“With smile on her face, hair blond, not quite red,”
“I’ll take her for drinks, admire that brain in her head.”
“She’ll be a wife, a mother, a partner, a dame.”
“She’s got an Ivy League smile and can cook, all the same.”
So Sarah dressed pretty for each and ev’ry date.
She arrived on time, it is so rude to be late.
As you can imagine, with so many Joshes,
She got tired and worn like an old pair of galoshes.
There was Josh the consultant, Josh the DA, Josh the banker,
Josh the tax guy, Josh Republican, Josh total wanker,
Josh OCD sports fan, Josh the schnorer, Josh the bore,
And Josh, corporate counsel, with the open lip sore,
Or Josh, labor lawyer, who sounded quite cool,
‘Til revealed he was on management’s side, too cruel!
Said Sarah, “I’m a union maid and you’re just not a winner,”
“I’m afraid you’re the Josh who is not coming to dinner.”
There was Josh with the twitches and Josh who was blinky,
Josh New Jersey accent, Josh Long Island, Josh freaky kinky,
Josh of the cruel divorce and Josh of the sad family tale,
As well as Josh the ambiguous, not identifiably male,
They all ran together, the ESQ pile of Joshes,
Like Josh whose body odor required several washes,
Josh cross-eyes, Josh lazy eyes, Josh bald, Josh hairy,
Josh obese, Josh ugly, Josh indifferent, Josh scary,
Josh of loud opinions, Josh who wouldn’t talk,
Josh with the high squeaky voice, like an ostrich’s squawk,
Josh Greenbaum, Josh Rosenbaum, Josh Gardner, Josh Freen,
Josh Bluestein, Josh Millstein, Josh Mordechai McQueen,
Josh the convert, Josh the Ortho, Josh the self-hating Jew,
Josh who loathed poor people and his high taxes too,
Josh arrogant, Josh needy, Josh one hour late,
Josh so awkward on his very first date,
Josh the insulting as well as Josh the dickhead,
And Josh whose bad breath made her pray she were dead.
Sarah often wishes when she first started dating,
She hadn’t feared the tedium of lifetime mating.
She should have just gotten it done.
Now she’s blind-dating Joshes who aren’t any fun.
If there was a Josh who could have sealed her fate,
She never met him. And now it’s too late?
*with sincere apologies to my beloved Dr. Seuss