“My place, or my place?”

Dating is going to be interesting this year.  I suppose that it’s generally pretty “interesting” anyway, for good or ill, but I can’t help but wonder what kind of unsavory relations could be lurking around the corner of 2012.  At times, dating can seem hopelessly complicated for anyone, but dating in Los Angeles is widely considered to be- well, flat out hopeless.  That’s under normal circumstances.

I happen to be on a court-ordered house arrest that requires me to spend an egregious amount of time in my apartment, and a very unfortunate share of that tethered to an outlet.  That could be a strike against me.  Then again, it’s possible that I could find a guy who is a huge Star Wars fan and I could be like Princess Leia in chains, waiting to be saved.  We could make it work.  I hope he looks like Han Solo.  But sadly, we all pretty much know the stats on how often Star Wars fans look like Han Solo.

There is always the option of revisiting old flames that have long ago burned out, and each of you deciding that for a week, or even just for an evening, you are going to forget all of the reasons why this relationship didn’t last in the first place.  At the very least, you will do each other the favor of pretending not to remember.  The truth is, though, you always will remember, and the brief reunion will probably serve as a friendly reminder.  If you can have fun and walk away with your emotions honestly still intact, then sometimes it can be fun to call up an ex.  Especially given my current travel restrictions, something to appreciate about exes is that they are usually willing to deliver.

My opportunities to meet anyone new have dwindled down to the rare moments that I’m unleashed onto the community to roam freely, like during approved grocery shopping.  I was recently advised by a male friend of mine that Whole Foods is a great place to meet people, and that he can usually land a number or two near the salad bar.  I guess I can see that.  The salad bar is part of that whole ready-to-eat section.  People there are ready.  Ready to eat, and who knows what else?  I could just head someone off at the couscous and make him an offer.

At least for now, I’m going to hold off on any rash behavior.  I’ve still got 11 months of house arrest to endure, though, so I reserve the right to get creative.  Nonetheless, it might be a while before I resort to cornering unsuspecting shoppers at Whole Foods in hopes of finding my Han Solo.

331 days to go.