Has the jury reached a verdict?

Suddenly, I'm in a large, cold room, filled with chatter and photographers.  Behind me, a sea of blonde ponytails and cheerleader uniforms, all glancing up at me from their hushed exchange of rumors with smirky, critical looks of pity and ridicule.  In front of me, I look up to see a huge bench with an angry judge perched high atop.  He bangs the gavel repeatedly, until the chit-chat and snickering behind me turns to whispers and "shhh's."  "Court is now in session!," he yells still banging the oversized gavel.  He glares down at me over his bad plastic-rimmed glasses, then over to the jury box.  "Has the jury reached a verdict?," he bellows.  "We have, Your Honor," says the pale, bookworm jury forewoman in her tweed business suit.  She hands a piece of paper to the bailliff, who in turn passes it to the ominous judge.  He reads it, grins to himself and then focuses his attention back to me.  Assured of my pardon, I stand calmly and confidently.  "Melanie Maiden-Name, your faults have been evaluated by a jury of your peers," he states snidely, as I look over at the jury box full of nerdy, wallflower-like women, all in their late old maid years, with intense frown lines and bad fashion choices.  "You have been found guilty and, as judge of Singledom, I hereby sentence you to a lifetime of bad first dates, without the possibility of marriage!," he cackles, taking delight in my punishment.  Cameras flash and click, documenting my disgrace for generations to come. "Bailliff," he continues, "take her to Red Lobster!"

I shoot up in bed, palms sweating, head aching.  Good grief...  I need a vacation, preferably with a lot of sun, waves, adult beverages, and bad decisions.

Tomorrow evening is my third first date in as many weeks.  I think I've figured out that I'm very good at the relationship stuff: the calling to just say hello, the notes of encouragement before job interviews or other such important daily tasks, the random notes on the windshield before work, the remembering important dates or appointments, birthdays or anniversaries, the listening without judging and not offering an opinion when it's not necessary, all the important things that keep the connection alive.  It's the building the connection that I'm not so great at accomplishing.  I grew up thinking how wonderful it would be to marry my best friend.  Not the "I want to marry him therefore he's my best friend" concept, but the idea that someone would be your best friend and then turn into your soulmate was always the ideal situation in my head.  And I thought it was because it was just so romantic and Hollywood-like.  How many movies have you seen where people suddenly wake up and realize that their best friend is who they actually want to spend the rest of their life with?  I can count at least five right off the top of my head, without even thinking too hard!  But, I wonder if that approach is not so appealing simply because it's romantic, but also because it's so easy.  In the short time that I've been throwing myself to the sharks with this new marathon dating approach, I have quickly realized that dating isn't fun.  It's not enjoyable, it's not easy, it's not comfortable.  And maybe that's because I haven't ever dated the right one.  But, if given an "out" right now that was easy and comfortable, I'd probably jump at the chance, simply to avoid Serial First Dater status.

Maybe I'm doing something wrong...maybe my style of meeting the person as an individual/potential friend first and not a potential partner on the first date isn't the best route to take.  Maybe I need to be a bit more flirtatious or silly and less serious.  Maybe my style borders on job interview and that's intimidating.  Maybe I'll start experimenting with the different versions of Melanie on these dates until I find one that seems to be a bit more attention-getting.  Wish me luck...