A guy walks into a bar… “And what?” you may be thinking. Well, it depends, but one way the story certainly does not end is with the guy meeting his soul mate, walking outside, and living happily ever after. It's not unheard of, but it's very, very unlikely. E-dating, blind dating, speed dating, hook-ups, one-night stands, long-term relationships, falling in love, falling out of love… A late twenty-something, who has spent most of his adult life looking for the real thing, I found myself postponing suicide for some mere chance – a miracle –that Ms. Right would walk into my life and absolve all the prior wrongs that had befallen upon me… I'm still waiting. I've asked out hairdressers, waitresses, co-workers, friends, doctors, vegetarians, vegans, meat eaters, the devout, the damned, the attractive, the unattractive – meeting in bars, cafes, restaurants, school, the grocery story, airports, on trains and buses and planes – all with the hope of finding the one thing that seems to allude everyone: happiness. Maybe I've just been passed over too many times for the head-shaven, muscle-bound tool, who sports “Jesus bling” and a silk, graphic tee – the type of guy who barely graduated from high school and works some dead-end day job – while “partying like a rock star” on the weekend. Maybe I've been c—kblocked too many times by the aged hipster, the local, 40-something divorced drunkard who lurks in some of my favorite coffee shops, waiting to pounce on the first piece of jailbait that walks through the door. Maybe I've been bitten by the love bug too many times only to discover that the bug was carrying some rare, tropical disease. Or maybe I've been dumped too many times, and, days later, have seen my new ex hanging off the arm of some near primate, when her rationale for breaking up was, “I don't want to see anyone right now.” Maybe, just maybe…. Whatever it is, I've resolved to share my story. I'm a real guy – a person with romantic tendencies, and that is my biggest crime: being authentic in an age of kissy lips, popped collars, wife beaters, hat tilts, red party cups, graphic tees, thugs, fakes and showmen… in short, pure and unrefined douchebaggery. Northeastern Pennsylvania is an interesting place to live, and it is an even more interesting place to find love (or not find love). We've all heard dating horror stories, and, if we're lucky, maybe we've been co-authors of our own bad stories, too. In that case, maybe it isn't so bad being single in Scranton.