Friends who push other friends into attractive people are friends to keep. This is how I met my latest fling.

I was at a bar and had been eyeing a particular boy all night. It was karaoke night and he was singing. As my friends and I were leaving, I felt it absolutely necessary that I talk to him (this is symptomatic of drinking—I always feel the need to find a mate before the night is over), though I was much too shy. Before I could think of something clever to say, I was stumbling and bumbling toward him, stammering something like, "Hi (abruptly), you were pretty swell up there" (he had just karaoked to some forgotten tune). What followed were more awkward lines. But in the next several minutes he had met my table of friends, who, smart as they are, invited him to a party later.

(I'm taking the liberty here to include some bad sex poetry I wrote. Note: I was challenged by English Professor John Redmond last semester to write my love column as a poem. Here it is):

Three months

until Friday came and Sunday

morning followed. And it's Sarah

to thank for pushing me

into him, for inviting him

to the party. It was

later and he came.

First the kiss in front

of the party people

with his hands on my knees

that had to progress elsewhere,

so I took him home.

The bottles instructed us not to operate machinery after consuming, though he managed all night, so I think I'll keep him a while.

It's a true story. Though, it's been several weeks, now, and I didn't get to keep him and he didn't keep me. There was nothing keeping us together other than the bedroom. Our conversations were not too stimulating, and I don't think that was a fault of mine. I just seem to have things backwards, because I always start in the bedroom and try to take it from there. This is not advisable. It has only led to one too many dead end encounters, or series of encounters (some romantics may call them flings or affairs). But, I'm much too hungry, and it's skin I crave (and comfort, assurance, and being held).

Sure, I've had first love and true love. And there's the occasional good and bad sex. I even thought 2003 had come in with a bang when a smooch on New Year's Eve progressed to a steamy taxi ride back to my folks' house, who heard nothing of our hanky-pankying. So, the New Year did bring me some action. But, it's April, now, and almost four months of my awkward and futile attempts at attracting, and keeping, the opposite sex. So, here are my options:

a) I'll get back in the game and meet a winner (this is my favorite choice).

b) I'll go back to Winton for more counseling.

c) I'll be doomed to singlehood, to the life of the spinster, the old maid, if you will.