My Soul Eats Alone

I never thought I'd enjoy being an associate at Costco.

Now, to be fair, I'm the only one using the term "associate," and I'm pretty sure Burning Man's Costco Soulmate Trading Outlet doesn't properly mimic the experience of working at Costco; I'm enjoying it all the same.

I am an interviewer, meaning I get to ask soulmate seekers all sorts of weird questions about themselves in order to properly guage who would make a good soulmate for them. I take an application, read the applicant's answers to the questions, and then yell out the applicant's' name in the waiting room.

Some of the names are real names, but most are special Burning Man monikers, like "Queen of Sheba," or "Morpheus", or "Sheba Morpheus, Queen of the Toad Lickers." Some of the people are really cool, some of the people are really strange; a few are both. I talk to an Australian, a Welsh woman, and even the guy who did my soulmate interview. Many are engaging, interesting personalities with a lot to say about life. Others have very little to say.

One girl seems disinterested in talking the whole interview until I notice that she has read Greg Behrendt's book, He's Just Not That Into You, and mention that my friend used to work on Behrendt's show. The girl immediately perks up and starts reciting the virtues of the book with a livelieness I had not seen before.

"It's true! It's so true! You can waste so much time with a guy and worry and worry but if he really loves you he'll never let you go. It's so important to realize that. If he really loves you, he'll never let you go. I mean, why would you want to be with the wrong person? And sometimes guys just aren't that into you. It's so true!"

This continues for another five minutes without a single pause to catch some air. I start to understand why many guys just aren't that into her.

Another woman is about fifty. She is wearing bright red lipstick and very little else. Her goals are twofold: 1) She wants to start a commune and 2) she wants to change the world. I ask her how she plans to change the world. Her answer involves maps. That's pretty much all I got out of it and my reasons are twofold: 1) She couldn't have been more vague and 2) she was not wearing a shirt.

It is incredibly difficult to conduct an interview with a fifty year old woman when her boobs are hanging out. It's like trying to interview Mikhail Gorbachev. Sure, you feign interest in his thoughts about the Cold War, but you're really concentrating on not staring at the birthmark the whole time.

I guess what I'm saying is that the woman's boobs looked like Mikhail Gorbachev's forehead.

One girl I interview, Meg, is incredibly attractive and sits incredibly close to me. It's a bit disturbing how much I am willing to forgive when it comes to a stunning woman. She is a hula-hooping vegan who speaks with an unfounded accent that vaguely resembles British, Minnesotan, or Madonna, depending on the sentence. Though I find most of these traits annoying, they somehow strike me as endearing when put to a pretty face.

Meg has just spent six months in New Zealand, plans to become a dentist, and has a fantasy about having sex in a library "with a man of great intellect."

"I was valedictorian, you know," I casually point out.

I have no shame.

When the interview is over, I hand Meg her Costco membership card as well as my business card. You know, for business purposes. I then head over to the Costco tent to collect my soulmate, which means exchanging my membership card for the application of a like-minded female. The application includes her location at Burning Man, so I head over to her camp to say hello. After all, it's not every day you get to meet your soulmate.

As I head over to the "couchsurfing camp," I review my soulmate's application. This is what I know about her:

+ She had sex on the beach before she ever had the drink, "sex on the beach."

+ She's never played a video game.

+ She "stole a five dollar battery back for (her) new vibrator, reasoning that she just spent sixty dollars on a dildo and the universe owed her. She spent the night in jail."

That's funny, I think to myself. She doesn't soooouuund like my soulmate.

I never find out. When I reach the "couchsurfing camp," I find its residents to be plentiful and not particularly receptive to visitors. A couple people have never heard of my soulmate. One guy has, and he offers to look for her.

I wait around awkwardly, making polite conversation with two girls and an odd man from Switzerland named Nader. Nader is wearing a miniature cowboy hat, designed to be hilariously small for his head. I judge it to be decidedly non-hilarious. A few minutes later, my soulmate's friend returns, stating that he can not find my soulmate, but that I'm welcome to hang around in case she returns soon.

"Okay. I'll just annoy these people here in the meantime," I say jokingly, referring to my new acquaintances.

Two seconds after saying this, the two girls walk away, leaving me standing in the middle of the camp alone. Ouch.

To be fair, one of the girls returns a couple minutes later and continues to make polite conversation. However, I'm pretty sure I am now "cock-blocking" Nader.

It's becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the symbolism of waiting aimlessly for my soulmate with a disinterested girl and an increasingly annoyed Swiss guy in a tiny hat, so I leave. I return the last day of the event and achieve similar results.

I will not find my soulmate at Burning Man.

On the other hand, I hear that "Sheba Morpheus, Queen of the Toad Lickers," was very pleased with her match.

So there's that.