In Post 19 “Compatibility of Divorcees”, I wrote "Even though they will have very little in common, this writer might prefer dating technologically-challenged bachelors who still remember how to use a public telephone."
I must be good at prophesizing. My sister reads tarot cards, so perhaps it runs in the family. I actually met a bachelor, Tal, who doesn’t own a cellphone. He doesn’t believe in cellphones and think that they ruin the quality of life. So now that his mother is ill, and he is at her hospital bedside, I cannot call him. I can leave messages on his answering machine at home and now that eventually he will check his messages but I can’t call him up at any hour of the day or night.
Dafna was horrified when she heard about this. “What happens if you are living together and you need to call him up in the supermarket and tell him that you are out of milk and to ask him to bring some home?” Since I don’t drink that much milk at home, it is unlikely that I would run out, so I wasn’t as devastated at Dafna of losing out on a dial in supermarket delivery service. (Dafna is a big fan of this blog so I hope she doesn’t take offense. I love her dearly!) Also, given the fact that in the last year I have not made it past four dates, the thought of living with or marrying someone seems like something out of a science fiction film.
Not only does Tal not have a cellphone, but his computer is not hooked up to the internet, so I can’t send him e-mails. He told me he doesn’t want a serious relationship with me because I am older than him and divorced and he is looking for someone younger, but we seem to be very fond of each other, and yet I am still trying to date divorced men with children, as ultimately that is who I am “supposed” to end up with. However, with the events of September 11 have changed my outlook on life, and made me think again and again how unpredictable and short life can be. So I really don’t want to give up the opportunity to enjoy my time with Tal and date other guys at the same time. In fact, Tal is only encouraging me to do so.
And so now I think that I am still a mammal but perhaps no longer human. We are simply bare bears enjoying being naked and hugging each other and then we will probably hibernate from life, perhaps even through the winter. One tall male thin bear and one short plump bear together for warmth until we return to the hunting and gathering of food. And what is food in this extended metaphor? Marriage material? The mythical ideally compatible partner? Being a positive thinker, I know that I will continue to reach my destinations without car accidents, being shot at, or being blown up and yet the reality of it happening to others is hard to avoid. I assure my son that our apartment block is too low for planes to fly into, but he doesn’t seem to know how many bombs and shooting incidents have occurred in the past year only a few kilometers or blocks away from our “safe” home. That’s why it’s simpler just to be a bear, I suppose.
This writer does not advocate sex with bears. She only assumes it’s less complicated than the mating game in the twenty-first century.
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