SINGLE IN SANDUSKY: I can't do this anymore

Sandusky, we need to talk. Look, I know you haven't heard from me in a while, even though I promised to write a regul
Cory Frolik
May 24, 2010

 

Sandusky, we need to talk.

Look, I know you haven't heard from me in a while, even though I promised to write a regular Single in Sandusky column, but something came up and I can't do this anymore.

There's no easy way to say this.

I've met someone.

Ah, she's great.

She's funny, intelligent, gorgeous.

We share a passion for books, fruity drinks from Outback and a deep disdain for the jokers who treat U.S. 250 as a drag strip.

When I wrote my first dating column several months ago, I assumed finding a mate would be a very long and ultimately hopeless campaign.

I based this assumption on the fact that dating in Sandusky, up until then, seemed crazy to me -- so crazy I was beginning to think it was time to be fitted for a straitjacket.

Meeting girls at Daly's, Cabana Jack's and I-5's was not in the cards.

I'd say hello. They'd look at me as though I just armpit farted a pick-up line.

Maybe we'd talk and instantly learn we had nothing in common.

After all, Pepsi vs. Coke is a divisive issue and can be a deal breaker.

The most memorable display of attention I got while test-driving the bar scene was at Daly's where a really drunk guy tried to give me an exorcism.

Speaking in slurred tongues, muttering something about the cleansing power of Jesus, the man eventually fell off his barstool and was removed on a stretcher by emergency medical technicians.

As you can guess, it looked as though I had a long, companionless road ahead of me.

Then I met her.

We connected -- I'll just leave it at that (read: She's a Pepsi person).

Maybe things won't work out. Then again, maybe they will. Time will tell.

But in the meantime, I can't do this Single in Sandusky thing anymore. It's not fair to either of us.

It's over.

To the people who wrote me e-mails about their single experiences and the frustrations they face, I say keep your chins up.

Maybe you will have to meet a few more people who think armpit farts are hilarious before you meet someone decent. I can only imagine it will be but a matter of time before you make a connection. Somebody out there is right for you. Find them.

To the people who wrote me messages about how great it is to be in a relationship and how pathetic single people are, I hope the drunk exorcism guy finds you and rids you of your evil.

So this is goodbye.

I'm off to have dinner tonight with a stunning woman.

But before that, I think I'll put that straitjacket in mothballs.

I don't think I'll be needing it quite yet.