“It didn’t totally suck. I mean, he was a nice guy but absolutely no spark. And oh, yeah, that reference on his profile about having some health issues, well he expanded on that one for sure.” Zoe didn’t sound upset about her date, she didn’t sound that happy either. “Well, it turns out that he has some type of pituitary issue that causes massive testosterone fluctuations on a regular basis. It disrupts his life but he’s ok. And I’m not a bitch, but dude, I just can’t take that on.”
Testosterone fluctuations. I felt bad for the guy and for my friend who had to hear about it. Compassion is one thing but a first date, over ice cream and the conversation turns to serious medical issues? He’s a pass, I think to myself. And dammit. She’s been having such shit luck lately. We’ve all been there, that string of dates where it seems that there is a greater chance of winning the lottery than meeting a decent guy you’re compatible with.
“But there’s good news,” she says, interrupting my thoughts. “Yep, I’ve decided I’m going to take a man/dating hiatus. Let’s call it “Zoe’s dude hiatus 2011”. I feel great about it. I’m tired, Beard Boy and his chronic neediness just wiped out my reserve and now I’m going for some me time.” Now this thrilled me. My outstanding, edgy and intelligent friend had spent far too much time thinking about totally sub par guys and no time, I mean zero time, thinking about taking care of herself. I jumped in with my endorsement of the hiatus. She fired back with, “I’m kicking it off with a boot shopping trip. Want to come?”