The Meet of the Matter : How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count the Spark Plugs

BEING SAFELY REMOVED by age and commitment from the singles dating scene, I do not haunt singles bars or read the dating ads in throwaway newspapers. Besides, if I were looking for a mate, I believe I’d trust in the cute meet, on which so many movie romances were based in the 1930s, rather than a want ad or computerized dating approach.

In the cute meet, two persons of obvious compatibility are brought together by some minor contretemps--she drops her ice cream on his lap in the subway, or the leashes of their dogs become entangled in the park; the first reaction is embarrassment, then anger, then interest, then love.

However, John P. Nelson of Encinitas has sent me a page from the San Diego Reader, a newspaper that offers a “Phone Matches” service--personal ads whose authors are identified only by a phone number connecting the caller with a recording. The caller hears the author’s “introduction” and has time to answer.

Several ads are typical of the genre:

“Abandon loneliness forever! Male, 38, 6 feet, seeks relationship. Caring, affectionate, romantic, great sense of humor.”

“Accomplished executive, 27, 6 feet, 179 pounds, loves symphony, workouts, fine art, cities. Prefers extremely sophisticated ‘professionelle.’ ” (I have an idea that an extremely sophisticated and liberated young woman might be turned off by the word “professionelle.”)

“Are you the playmate who can become my soul mate? Outgoing, fun-loving, female professional looking for adventure with the right guy.”

“Attention professional women: Want it all? Career, family? You need a house husband; so let’s talk.”

But the ad that Parker had circled for my attention was longer than any of the others. To convey its full flavor, I am obliged to quote it all:

“Could this be her? Smart, 23-year-old, atypical, Japanese-American woman, 5-foot-5, 104 pounds, who grew up on the beaches of Southern California. I’m bright, energetic and look at life with a wide-eyed curiosity. I love history, peanut butter, vanilla Haagen-Dazs, running along the coast at dusk, and I’m Jack Smith’s (the columnist) biggest fan. I am the world’s worst skier and my singing voice could probably evacuate a tall building in a single note. However, I do love music. Musical interests range from Steve Winwood and pre-1980s Rolling Stones to Talking Heads and Joe Jackson. Dislikes: synthetic fabrics, local news and fast foods. I am a woman who feels equally at ease in a black, strapless evening gown as I do tuning up my car in worn-out jeans (now how often do you find that?) Looking for the special, witty, educated man, 25-35, who can appreciate my inquisitive nature. Could that be you? Call and tell me a little about yourself and answer the following questions: (1) Of all people, living or dead, whom would you most like to meet and why? (2) What is your idea of the perfect first date?”

Parker, who is also eliminated from Miss Curiosity’s consideration by age and marital status, observes that “her preference for your work is listed at the point at which religion and politics are listed in other ads.” He wonders what that means. I assume it means that Miss Curiosity is apolitical and non-religious--qualities that would not lower her in my esteem.

Since I am not eligible as an object of her romantic interest, perhaps there is no point in my answering her two questions. However, like her, I am incurably curious, and I wonderhow I might answer them if it mattered.

Recently, I said here that given the chance to meet any woman, living or dead, I’d take one of the living. But since none of those I named has called, I’m reverting to Cleopatra, assuming that we could somehow overcome the language barrier; and my idea of the perfect first date would be drifting down the Nile in Cleo’s barge, sipping champagne and popping peeled grapes into my mouth, listening to Cleo sing love songs while she accompanied herself on the lute. What happened afterward I would leave to the gods.

Considering her singing voice, Miss Curiosity doesn’t fit into that picture very well. But then Cleo wasn’t perfect, either. I have an idea that she was arrogant and a bit headstrong and liked having her way.

I didn’t call Miss Curiosity’s number, for obvious reasons. But we do have a few things in common. I like history; I look at life with a wide curiosity; I’m bright and atypical and I grew up on the beaches of Southern California. I love to walk, not run, along the coast at dusk, and I’m a peanut butter junkie.

However, I’m afraid her taste for the pre-1980s Rolling Stones and the Talking Heads would rule me out. I have no doubt, though, that her Mr. Right will share that affliction.

Meanwhile, I do wish my wife could tune my car.