Day 129 — It’s Raining Men

SalesforceI resented learning Salesforce, the contact management system, in my last job. I liked the way I managed my own contacts, and I didn’t need access to anyone else’s.

It was like taking physics in high school. I mean, am I ever going to really need to know this?

So, while I was going through my online dating phase, it hit me. I’m going to get completely lost if I don’t somehow find a way to keep track of all these men hitting on me. For this, I need something like… Salesforce.

Some (most) of the guys who try to get my attention, I just delete immediately (sorry guys). There are a few I consider, at least at the moment I first meet them, hot prospects.

And then there are all those in between. They could be great. I don’t know. I’ve just gotten behind reading profiles, and besides, only the most confident are gonna get anywhere near their goal.

It’s really that hot prospects group that has a serious chance, although I don’t always check my work so the system isn’t perfect.

This still creates a pool of a whole bunch of suitors. I don’t have as much time to date as I’d like, and I don’t want to be random about it, so I created a small database to track the men seeking my hand, or any other body part for that matter. It isn’t comprehensive, the number of body parts, that is.

I just make notes on email addresses, sometime phone numbers, and a few stray facts that can help me remember who the hell it is when they call me. Likes dirt bikes. Brother is an NFL lineman. Stuff like that. It comes in REALLY handy.

I’m terrible with names, and, before implementing my new system, I confuse different guys all the time. I could, I suppose, use this to tell different things to different guys, but I can’t see the point of such complexity.

Most importantly, I keep my database sorted by a rudimentary ranking. Each record may have different stuff in it, but what really counts is where you rank. The currently top-ranked guy gets Saturday night, date night. His leading competitor gets Friday, maybe, or something else.

As for what they get from me, that is all improvisational. Like most women, I am persuadable by the right man, in the right setting. None of the men know about the list, of course (or they didn’t before now, anyway).

Okay, yeah, it is a little cold, doing it this way. But I’m a practical girl, and this is a practical solution to the “I’m sorry, who is this again?” problem.

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