(after the thrill is gone).
I’m Dave Merren .
For all my failings and shortcomings, I’m a hopeless romantic… otherwise known as a Matchmaker.
Matchmaking is a mild sickness, a malady rather than any special ability, an abnormal condition just like a toothache, rather than a trade.
Like honest Bankers or poor farmers, us matchmakers are a breed apart and outstanding(literally) in their own field(of dreams), but distressingly, now in decline and tapering off.
We’re an endangered species. We live on Valium, Whiskey and the forlorn hope that someday, someone will acknowledge and Gawd forbid, even appreciate our existence.
We survive in the shadows of Internet Dating, and Tinder. We’re the antithesis of fake profiles, scams and con artists because we actually meet people in the real world.
Covidly, some of us Matchmakers/Hopeless Romantics/Sad Cabbages are currently socially distancing to the point of quarantining (and therefore not doing any business)
Modern Dating(sic) is now a virtual reality .It’s life Jim, but not as we know it.
‘We get Lockdown but we’ll get up again -you’ll never gonna keep me down.’
The worst matchmakers(me) got into this business because we actually loved getting people together. -we enjoyed trying to make single people happy by meeting like minded other single people….
and we slept well at night..
The best matchmakers are entrepreneurs who love buying and selling…and making money.
Once we were aristocrats.
We were alchemists and seers who made two singles into a double-.a ‘one n one’. a try and a convert…like Paddy Power we’d speculate to accumulate until we found Samson’s Delilah.
We used to have respectability and a status about us and we operated in the old fashioned way by actually meeting people (who knew?) and actually listened to their needs and we genuinely tried to introduce like minded folk to each other.
Now we’re called Shylocks, flesh peddlers and hustlers
We’re getting further from the action because of social media and Internet Dating and Tinder.
We’re shouting louder and louder but we’re not getting heard above the din of instant gratification from the pampered, tunnel visioned egotistical generation of wanting (and getting) it all NOW, whatever the cost, the circumstances and the outcome.
We made our living(sic) in the finger pointing spotlight of angry, bitter and entitled ‘must tick all the boxes’ men and women who have a warped and entitled criteria about who and what their potential partner must be(and must have), and refuse to step out of their cosy blinkered bubble to go that extra yard to check if they’d actually get on with someone in real life….
which ultimately and unfortunately resulted in our profession being compared to the Garbage Collection industry.
Yes, we dealt with all sorts of venomous trash, crap and irrationality.
Matchmaking, to me, was and is, and always will be a sort of romance.
It was a thrill-It was my dream.. that moment we matched two people who clicked and actually got on with each other and enjoyed each other’s company… That exciting frisson. That’s what did it for me..
that’s when I slept well at night.
I loved it, I had a passion for it, I cared for what I did, what matches I made and sure I worried too much about the what if’s and how’s and maybe’s…
But nothing prepared me for the vitriolic verbals and personal threats when an introduction didn’t spark.
Yes, that hurt….A LOT!
“What can you do when your dreams come true and it’s not quite like you planned”
You ask yourself “Is this worth all the grief and hassle-I didn’t sign up to be abused, sued or shat on.?”
It’s time for me to say enough is enough.
The thrill is gone.
Goodbye, good luck and thanks for all the fish.