By Gina Angostura
Columnist

There are three things I insist upon in the lucky, lucky man that I will be with someday: He must be funny, he must be sane, and he must be unmarried. I seem to be coming across a boatload of men who average two out of the three. I think I need to dump cargo and get a new boat.

But not one like in this guy’s online profile, all full of sailing metaphors, where he assures the ladies he owns an engine big enough for his pontoon. What is that? Is that flirting? I think that guy has been adrift at sea without a bite for way too long.

You know, I don’t care about the length of a guy’s speedboat, or the knots it can do. But my three requirements are the anchor of my search, and I won’t compromise on those.

My usual combo is the single sane boring guy, although I’ve also come across a few funny unattached nuts. The worst are the married neurotic guys whose idea of humor is the “Peanut Butter Jelly Time” video.

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I realize I’m working with clearance rack items here. Especially at my age, the inventory is a bit ... picked over. And I’m not saying I’m not on the rack, too ­ I am. I ain’t no Badgley Mischka original. I’m as ready-to-wear as they come.

You know, I have a few younger friends who are dating, as well, and they express the same frustrations. And they encounter more married men pretending to be single than you would think.

It’s too bad society can’t come up with a better marker for “taken” than a removable wedding ring. I’m thinking maybe a tattoo on the forehead that looks like a “canceled” stamp, or a collar that can only be removed by the spouse placing his or her thumb on a scanning screen. That’s so much cooler than the proverbial ring through the nose. Today, that just helps a guy blend in.

My young girlfriends have a philosophy for when things don’t work out with a guy. “Turn the page,” they say.

Just start again. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off and all that crud.

It’s easy for them to say. They’ve got an Encyclopedia Britannica to work with, and they’re only in Darfur-Dos Passos.

I’m on the page in a romance novel where the hero, a ship’s captain who has shunned his beloved because he heard a rumor about her involvement with a Spanish pirate, finds out that it was all a lie, and is racing across the waves to save her from a fate worse than death. Which, of course, would be the sequel.

What I’m saying is that there are only so many pages left for me to turn before the Titanic goes down.

But I’m not quite ready to give up the ship.

I’ll continue my search for single, sane and funny until the Love Boat pulls into my harbor for good.

Gina welcomes your comments and questions. Have a dating dilemma you’re struggling with? What, you think Gina isn’t struggling? But feel free to share anyway. We’re in this together. E-mail me at singlecynic@manchestermirror.com.