A humorous look at choosing a lesbian life partner

25 Mar

I’ll be the first to admit that when it came to dating I was a stern taskmaster. If running an interview process for candidates works well in the corporate world I reasoned it would be just as effective in my personal life. When the time came that I felt I was ready to settle down with Ms. Right I called in a professional headhunter and we began the arduous process of finding my life partner.

Mona, my headhunter, began very professionally by running me through the paces of answering several hundred simple questions aimed at assessing my needs and wants. Generally they were the yes no variety to gage my receptiveness to smokers, varying religious denominations, political affiliations and the like. By the time we reached questions pertaining to television viewing preferences I decided to save us both some time. “All I really want is somebody within ten years of my age either way with a job and their own medical insurance. It would be very helpful if we wear the same size clothes so I can double my wardrobe. Someone attractive like a young Heidi Klum or Anjelina Jolie would be helpful but not necessary, and they should have their own number two pencil.”

With this stringent criteria in mind we next took out ads in the local papers to create a buzz and to help form an interview pool. Although we stated an RSVP would be nice, anyone that wished could walk in freely and apply for the position. Mona and I set up shop at a local coffee shop willing to aid in the process and make a few bucks on the waiting applicants. Decked out in my power suit I sat alongside Mona and we started at the top of the list.

Suitor number one was obviously a bit too young and suitors two through six could not provide proof of insurance. Suitor seven was a possibility but she failed to meet the criteria of bringing a number two pencil although she had several functional pens. She would be kept on the back burner although her inability to follow directions would not go unnoticed. Numbers eight through seventeen were all amazingly wrong, especially the man that swore he was really a lesbian on the inside. The list was nearly ended but walk in traffic was amazingly good. Perhaps it was my powerful attraction, or more likely the promised free lattes to all who applied. The world may never know.

Interviews went on and on and I began wondering why I had chosen to use a headhunter. I was actually meeting worse candidates than I found in clubs or through friends. Thirty six applicants came and went and only three were even placed on the maybe list. I dismissed Mona, cut her a painfully unearned check to sever our business relationship and resigned myself to turning into the crazy old cat lady that answers the front door in a housecoat and hair rollers. Life seemed so unfair.

I started the drive home and found myself desiring a coffee for some reason. Why I hadn’t purchased one while I was in a coffee shop for three hours is beyond me. I pulled through the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru and made my purchase. I pulled forward a hair and found the lid wasn’t quite secure. Instinct took over and I eased on the brakes to fix the lid, after all what would be worse than a piping hot regular all over my crisp white suit?

What would be worse is the numb skull behind me not paying attention and bumping into me not only damaging my bumper but also spilling my beverage. I watched her hop out of her car in my rear view mirror and approach my car. I had already decided if there was no serious damage I would just let it go and that maybe this was a sign from a higher power to cut down on the caffeine. Before I knew it she was yelling at me through my rolled up window and seemed a bit agitated. Did she honestly believe this was my fault?

I pulled to the side of the lot and after a moment cooler heads prevailed. I said maybe it was my fault rather than trying to pin it on the drive-thru girl that gave me a defective lid. The damage wasn’t too bad to either of our cars and we reached the agreement that if she pay for my dry cleaning everything would be even. We exchanged information and when the day came for my big payoff we found we really had a lot in common as we noticed we were wearing the same shoes.

Luckily she was a lesbian because after my horrid mate hunt, I decided I would be satisfied with someone that had nothing more than a pulse, and even if it was machine aided that would be okay. I sized her up and decided I could lose a little weight and get down a size to fit in her clothes. I asked if she had a number two pencil to which she replied she didn’t and my heart sank a little. She did however have several mechanical pencils which in her profession as an architect she preferred. I queried if architects have good medical coverage to which she replied with one word, “excellent.”

At that moment my heart was gone. I was smitten having found all I was looking for at the cost of nothing more than a slightly dinged bumper. My advice to fellow lesbians when it comes to dating is to forget the clubs, don’t venture to the internet, and a corporate headhunter is not the answer. If you want to find your life partner cruise around the parking lot of an establishment you frequent until you have an accident with an attractive lesbian sister and let nature take it’s course.

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