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brand-new dentist every time you need your teeth cleaned?
    Once you’ve dropped of your stained suits at the dry cleaner’s, are you really going to rotate your filthy garments among all the local cleaners each week?
    When you run out of saltines, are you going to go to the nearest store, or spice it up and head over to the supermarket on the other side of town?
    I suspect you go about your daily life more or less as I do: as though clamped firmly to an invisible length of monorail track.
    The reason I live in Manhattan is not because I “enjoy taking advantage of everything the city has to offer” like a dubious personal ad; it’s because I’m both wasteful and a glutton. I like knowing I have everything right here beside me so I can let it all spoil in the refrigerator next to the broccoli.
    Maybe you aren’t even aware of how small a geographic circle you live in. But until you stretch your borders just a little, you can’t say you’ve so much as lifted a finger when it comes to finding love. What you’ve done is wait for love to quit its job, apply for work as a FedEx driver, and put in a request to work on your particular route.
    This isn’t leaving it in God’s hands; this is tying God’s hands behind His back.
    It’s like pacing up and down the condiment aisle at the supermarket and hating on yourself because you can’t find a single thing you want to eat. “Oh my God, I can’t stand chutney! And horseradish ? That’s for awful old people. This is a hateful store. They hate love here.”
    It’s unrealistic and passive to expect to meet somebody who shares not only your interests and sensibilities, but also your daily routine.
    And if you really aren’t all that bad and your world is a wee bit bigger than what I’m describing, you still need to get your Napoleon on and take over a little more of the world.
    For example, if you take a subway or walk to work eachday, do you ever alter your course? Do you ever get on the wrong train, on purpose?
    Because I believe destiny and chance are the oldest poker buddies in town.
    You need to go places you have never been and order food you have never ordered and wait in lines you have never waited in before.
    If you want to go to the museum on Saturday, go instead to a Little League baseball game.
    Once you’ve opened your world a little, then you need to open your mind.
    Because another thing lots of people believe is that they will know the person when they meet them. There will be an instant, profound recognition.
    Maybe.
    Maybe not.
    If you are to be really truthful here, do you think it’s possible that over all the time you’ve been single, every now and then you’ve fantasized about what it might be like to meet this special person?
    Who hasn’t done that, right?
    Do you think it’s possible that each fantasy leaves behind just a little bit of residue?
    So that maybe without even realizing it, your brain has kind of formed a visual image of what this person looks like?
    If I asked you to—right now, quick—describe the person you will one day meet, even for an instant, does a human form flash in your mind?
    If you have such a mental image of the person you expect someday to meet, it could be acting like a coffee filter, automatically catching those minuscule pieces of ground-up insectand Colombian coffee–field mouse tail, shielding your attention from people who do not resemble the blueprint you have generated over time.
    I don’t believe in the concept of a soul mate. Because we are all unique, but we’re also simply too similar.
    I think out of seven billion people, there is probably more than just one soul mate. Surely, the paid employee in charge of each person’s love life has taken into account the possibility of fatal snake bites and heavy falling objects.

II
     
    Or maybe there’s something wrong with you and that’s why you’re single.
    Maybe you’re like the guy I had a date with once, who was perfect in every way except for