Catching a guy is a hole lot of work, dig?


I have come to the conclusion that all the single women I know are spending far too much time worrying about how to meet men. I, a happily married woman, have found out how to meet men through no fault of my own.
Today, I share this secret with the sisterhood. You do not meet men at bars, clubs or dance halls. I mean you CAN, certainly, but is that really what you want: a club hopping alcoholic with a sense of rhythm? No, you want a solid, reliable, resourceful type guy.
For that, you’ve got to dig a hole.
Grab a shovel. Any hole will do. It does, however, have to be a big enough hold to show some real promise. Too small and they will overlook it completely as just some gardening or a honey-do gone awry. No, you need a hole of the diameter and magnitude to really perk their ears up. A truly magnificent hole!
For reasons I cannot explain, but will no longer question, this will bring men like bees to honey, ants to a picnic, and any other metaphor that involves happy bugs you can think of.
I find that an excavation 4 feet deep by 27 feet across really does the trick. You must make the hole fairly uniform so that it is readily apparent that you have placed the hole there on purpose (rather than it being, say, an act of God). God, I believe, is not in the market to meet anyone, whereas you, my single gal friends, want to take all the credit for this fine hole.
Magnet. Generally, the hole itself will take care of the rest. A giant, unfilled hole in the ground is apparently a “male magnet.” Men will be drawn from miles around to stare in wonder at the hole and opine why it is there, what it is for, and how (and how long) it will take to fill it.
Just as nature abhors a vacuum, so do most healthy American males abhor an under-utilized hole in the ground.
Extra effort. If you are far off the beaten path, you may wish to nudge the male meeting process on a bit. I found that ordering a variety of materials all requiring deliveries by large trucks worked nicely.
On any given day I would look out to see concrete, gravel or sand come trundling up the driveway. Without fail, by the time I waved them in and returned to the house for my checkbook (there is ALWAYS a checkbook involved in these things – I didn’t say meeting men would be FREE did I?), I would return to find the deliveryman in question standing next to the hole.
It got so I would simply use the back door out of habit, thus coming out much closer to the hole and saving all that time yoo-hooing around the side yard looking for the man to give the money to.
Granted, a fair number of these men are probably married, but my unscientific survey has shown that a good number of them are not. (I’m sure their propensity to be mesmerized by dirt is purely coincidental of course).
Play time. Therein lies the potential. Women, almost to a person, see a big hole in the ground and think “when are you going to fix it?” Men, apparently, see only untold promises for fulfillment and fun. It’s like sandbox days all over again, but with bigger Tonka trucks!
Sand guys, gravel guys, concrete guys, and even the man who comes to repair the washing machine will all want to get in on the action. They will provide input on backfill, infill, stabilization, gravel, sand, and topsoil. All of this will bore the average woman to tears but is really no more harmful than cocktail party conversation and less likely to end in a fight as, say, discussing politics or religion.
Concessions. All one really needs at that point is extra seating and a little concession selling cold drinks and I could set up a dating game right there by the big hole in the ground.
(In our case the hole is for a swimming pool but I’d hate to fill it immediately. There may still be some unattached males around that haven’t admired it yet). Most importantly, I contend that guys you find appreciating such things are pretty good marriage material. They don’t shy away from hard work or a challenge. They are self-starters (“What’s that? I must investigate!”) and are generally not shy about sharing their opinions.
Finally, if no thing else proves that this is a great way to meet men, consider this: My own husband will tell you that a great deal of marriage, on the part of a man, is spent digging a hole for himself.
(Kymberly Foster Seabolt offers endless uneducated wisdom on the dating game. She welcomes comments c/o; P.O. Box 38, Salem, OH, 44460; or


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Warm, witty and just a wee bit warped, Kymberly Foster Seabolt is a native of Kent, Ohio, who survived childhood exposure to disco and grew up to marry and move to the country. Her column weaves her special brand of humor with poignant, entertaining, and honest portrayals of parenting, marriage, and real life. She currently lives in northeastern Ohio with her husband, two children, two dogs, two cats, and numerous dust bunnies who wish to remain nameless.