At work this morning I had one voicemail waiting for me. No, it wasn�t Eddie Izz_ard calling to ask me to be his new best friend, and thanks for rubbing THAT in, by the way. It was actually the guy with whom I went to see Eddie, calling to ask if I want to grab a bite to eat and watch the game tonight. (I�m going to call him Social Guy from now on.) I don�t know what to do here. I believe that I should be out doing things and keeping busy, and that it probably doesn�t matter much what I�m doing as long as I�m not at home crying. I do NOT, however, want Social Guy to think I�m interested in hanging out with him specifically. I don�t even want to have a close friendship with him�-I just want to be casual buddies, and I want to hang out with him mostly in group settings. I don�t even want to chat on the phone with him.

Yesterday I was thinking about the night I met The Irishman, and how I felt the spark immediately�-the thing that I�ve also heard called the �indescribable wow.� I�ll never be able to explain it�-this average-looking guy across the room caught my eye and I felt something happen, and when we started talking it was clear that the spark was there. I guess pheromones figure in there somehow, but I didn�t go home that night thinking, �Ooooooh, I want to fall into bed with that guy.�

I still think it�s flat-out amazing that I spent the last six years running around out there in the world without feeling the spark. I�m all over the loop and the north side, going to work (four different jobs, no less) and the gym and social club events and movies and meetings and the synagogue and shops and movies and restaurants and the zoo and the park, and I even worked in a coffee store where I served hundreds of customers. All that, coming into contact with all those people, and I felt the spark exactly once? And when I finally felt it, it turned out like THIS? Hey, that stinks.

I know this is why one of my friends at work is pressuring me to spend more time with Social Guy. She�s convinced that spending enough time with someone like him could lead to some kind of variation of love, or at least fondness or respect. It happened to her parents, she says; her mom married her dad because he was a good man and he cared for her, and eventually she grew to love him, sort of. There was no spark, but they had a family and stayed together quite happily until her mom died.

I still want the spark.

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