Seeing the single's side of v-day

Every year, as conversation hearts fill the aisles of CVS, I shake my head in the face of celebrating couples. I scoff at the sappiness of Valentine's Day and all the stupid teddy bears that come with it. But as I grow older, much wiser and a little bit lonelier, the roses don't smell so stinky. So, this season I'm finding myself a big, beautiful, bootylicious boyfriend.

Before I step out into the dangerous dating world, I need to take a peek at my future by taking Match.com's Valentine's Day quiz. Will I be "dateless" or "da bomb?" Luckily, my feminine wiles scored me an 18 out of 22: "Desirable to the max, baby! You're ready for love and are willing to do what it takes to find it!"

So I set my willing self on the road or more accurately the information superhighway, and more specifically, Match.com profiles. I select the classy screename b0iKrAZy4eVa and for my profile write, "I am required to write 200 characters here to describe something indescribable. I need a boyfriend for Valentine's Day. Holla if yourrra balla!" For my catchy headline, I put the obvious: "I'm desperate."

In a few days, I have nine would-be suitors. CamelotDC has the potential to buy me a house for Valentine's Day with his $150,000-plus income, which he earned at age 36. Maybe he can buy me a house and adopt me for his daughter. And Labtek21 can "show me more than I could imagine," which unfortunately includes an "exciting highway jaunt at 95 mph, screaming expletives at other drivers who dare to swerve into our path." PudgeJuice, described as a "cucumber" and "teddy bear," seems nice enough, as long as I am interested in a vegetable or a stuffed animal.

The days are ticking away, and I am no closer to Valentine's romance, so I turn to my faithful friend, senior Mike Hayes, to set me up on a blind date. On Saturday evening, I pick up my destiny and head to the movies. As another Blair senior, and a popular, attractive, athletic one at that, I suppose it's understandable that he asked me not to embarrass him by including his name in this article. People might think we were dating.

When we take a seat in the theater, I find myself sitting alone. Well, not exactly alone, but my date chooses to leave an empty seat between us. At first I'm surprised but realize my intense nervousness must have caused my armpits to sweat more than I had expected. I make a mental note: Wear deodorant on your next date. And maybe at track practice, too. As you may guess, things just didn't work out between us.

Moral of my story: You can't just up and chase love down. Love is a fickle thing that you must wait patiently for. I'll have to let love come to me. So I'm waiting here. Room 158. With some chocolate, in case love likes sweets.