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The last of my still-single law school girlfriends showed up for dinner this past Friday with a 1.5-carat engagement ring.Meanwhile, I’m nursing a broken heart from my most recent attempt at a relationship.

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All this kept my mind returning to those It’s Just Lunch in-flight magazine ads I resorted to reading on my last flight after I abandoned whatever dep transcripts I was supposed to be reviewing.Aside from the ridiculous name, I couldn’t help but find something a little bewitching about the concept. ” Moreover, it seems that any man who would sign himself up for It’s Just Lunch MUST be incredibly desperate, and having that upper hand does wonders for my insecurities.The ad reiterated that the service is for “busy professionals.” Which means my excuse for resorting to such a service would presumably be my busy professional-ness—rather than the more obvious “I’m pathologically insecure! I scheduled the introductory meeting over the phone with a woman named Lizzie.My friends have run out of single guys to introduce me to.There’s even a running joke about the fact that I’ve dated THREE childhood friends of one of my law school classmates.

And don’t get me started on meeting a potential husband in a bar.Bars in Chicago are populated by three types: (i) snotty, preppy North Shore guys that I would rather pick a fight with than attempt to flirt; (ii) guys from the Western suburbs who all work at the Board of Trade and are not interested in committed relationships; and (iii) college kids.That left me with few options other than the depraved world of internet dating, right?I’d previously ruled it out as too sad or desperate.I forbid myself from on grounds that the stalker-ish ex-wife of a partner I work for (who is convinced that a mythical affair involving yours truly ended her marriage) uses the site, and I could only imagine the online smear campaign if she saw my profile.And e Harmony is out of the question—not just because of the five million-part questionnaire, but because it seems too conservative. Phil, whom I despise.) Finally, there’s JDate, and—what else can I say—my college boyfriend upended my need to convert to Judaism when he dumped me after graduation.