It sounds ridiculous, but it’s like something out of ancient human tribal / caveman past. The modern approach somehow kills it off before it ever gets started, or shortly after it does in divorce court.

I met and married my wife of 26 years in Manhattan July 1980. I was 19 she was {edited for self-preservation}. The very night before we met, I was on my way back to my ship (I was in the Navy) penniless, the victim of another floosy stringing me along just to spend my money for as little as she could get away with doing. I made up my mind then and there that I was going to live my life instead of searching for Ms Right (which I had been concerned with since a surprisingly early age). If sometime somewhere along the way we met, grand! If not, ever, that was ok too. And I meant it.

The next day we met. I was marching in a parade with the honor guard from my ship. She gave me a note, and we fell in love over the course of the next several months and were married that December.

I stumbled across your blog while doing a google of Dancing with the Stars trying to figure out what this “lift” business is about that Mario and Joey got reprimanded for last night on the show. I saw your dilemma about “finding Mr. Right” and how the meanest beasts and most dreadful looking cows somehow manage to find guys.

Hope this helped.

Stop looking. It really works.

Anyway, I am not trying to find a friend online or anything as you will see if / when you try to contact me. It’s a bogus email address. But the advice is damned good.