Plan C

About a year ago, I had read an article in Cosmopolitan Magazine (or some similar magazine?) about matchmakers and I had decided to call the top one in the country (based in Beverly Hills) and see who they had for me. It was a miserable experience and a story for another day.

However, about six weeks ago I decided to try two of the other top matchmakers in the country because maybe I just had bad luck the first time? I can't afford to risk my professional reputation by being on Match.com - and so this seemed like a more discreet means to the same end.

The way they work is that successful, eligible men who truly want to settle down will pay these people between $10,000 to $50,000 per year to be set up with attractive, smart women who also want to settle down. Luckily, the matchmakers decided to take me on as "inventory" which means that I'm in their little black book for a man who is looking for exactly my "type." To be considered as "inventory" one has to be considered generally pretty, have a college degree, be physically fit, not previously married, no children, and under the age of 35.

I get to be set up for free as I am a regularly requested "type." There is something that feels slightly hooker-ish about the whole thing, but what are my options? I can't stand the bar scene, or the clubs, and I am busy building a company in my spare time to pay my mega-mortgage! Where on earth am I supposed to meet my greater or equal with limited time and a complete disdain for a rocking social life echoing my college days? Believe me, I have tried taking classes; and going to academic lectures; and going to sports events; and volunteering;with no luck. Every place one recommends to meet men, I show up....with half the female population of New York showing up right next to me. I sadly even tried a sports bar once with a girlfriend thinking that would be like shooting fish in a barrel. The bar was full of men - but there was a game on about 30 televisions scattered around the room and my friend and I may well have been bar stools for all they noticed.

Anyway, I have digressed....the matchmaker it will be. There are two companies...one in New York and one in Chicago. I am leaving no stone unturned. If I decide that I want to have them look for me, for the type I want exactly, then I have to pony up thousands as well. At this point, until I hit 35 and am no longer eligible to be set up for nothing....I will remain in the black book of two of America's hottest matchmakers. Those matchmakers are my "Plan C"....and I absolutely intend to use them should Bambi continue to play this stupid game.

Do you really want me to call in the Dating Guards, Bambi? Because I will, really.