Do women really need men like fish need a bicycle?

Single white female looking for goldfish.

In college I loved to date. Maybe I was making up for lost time because when I was in high school I couldn't get a date to save my life. Looking back, I'm not sure why I was so undateable. Perhaps it was the braces I had on most of HS, or maybe it was my total lack of coordination and coolness. I like to blame it on the fact I have an older brother so guys at school viewed me more as a 'sister.' Something changed when I got to college and all of a sudden I was datable. Highly datable. To the point I was almost never boyfriendless.

And then, three years after college I went and got married. Rock on finger, big wedding with all the trimmings. That's not what this is about. This is about that six years after getting married I became a statistic. Yep, that's me. I'm one of those. The dreaded D word. I never would have thought. I guess no one ever really does.

So I find myself back in the dating game. For a variety of reasons my life is full of single men. For one, I work in a male-dominated industry. Secondly, I can talk to a concrete pillar. And thirdly, my life operates on both extremes of luck only - so I have the best and worst luck, ever. If there is a cute guy on the plane, I can bet my seat will be next to him. If there is a really large man on the plane with body odor, I can bet my seat will be next to him.

I don't believe in soul mates. I do believe in sole mates. My philosophy is that there are many lids that could fit this toilet and I just need to try them out one at a time (yes, that would be me as the toilet in this lovely metaphor).

I've now been on a couple dozen dates in what I call 'dating - round 2.' Wow. Cat Stevens said it's a wild world, and boy is he right. It's also a world full of stalkers, bad kissers, total dummies, know-it-alls, those who don't know when sarcasm isn't appropriate, and of course terrible dressers. It's also full of adorable men who are smart, interesting, fun and have a great heart. And somewhere, in the midst of them all, could be my next main man.

After much contemplation, I have decided that U2 must not really think fish need bicycles. And while I suck at a + b = c kind of equations, I do believe that would mean that women don't need men. They sure are fun to have around though. So I'm off in search of my goldfish. Most of the men I meet I will surely flush like I did my pet Goldy when I was eight-years-old. And hopefully, one day, I'll be lucky enough to win the perfect goldfish at the fair to bring home forever (and I may even let him out of the plastic baggie he came in).