When I was in college, I acted in a musical called Company. It's about a single guy and his married friends who continuously try to set him up, all the while trying to keep their own crazy marriages together. Whenever I become freshly single, I always think of one song from the show called "Another Hundred People." It's sung by one of the single women who the single guy is dating, and it's basically about the plethora of people pouring through the life and city around this person. I think about the difficulties in meeting people -- and even more keenly so now that I'm in Los Angeles, where it's generally agreed upon that it's hard to meet people. And here I am, limiting myself to women who are Jewish. The ubiquitious "they" say that there's not one person for you out there, there are several. Whether or not I believe that seems futile when I look at the speck that I am in this sea of people. I live in the second-largest city in the country, which is home to a few tens of millions of people. I live in a country that is home to 270 million people. Hell, according to Friendster, I'm linked to over half a million people just through third-degree separation. And yet, you expect me to be able to meet that Special Someone™ amidst this swarm of people, most of whom I will never meet, many of whom I may stream past on the street or brush by in a bar or a restaurant without ever exchanging a word? And even if I were to say a word or interact with them, who's to say they'd want to interact back with me? The possibilities are endless, and yet it's almost like I'm paralyzed and saddened by the overwhelming crush of it all. Which is really bad for me, Mr. Instant Gratification. "Another Hundred People" Another hundred people just got off of the train And came up through the ground, While another hundred people just got off of the bus And are looking around At another hundred people who got off of the plane And are looking at us Who got off of the train And the plane and the bus Maybe yesterday. It's a city of strangers, Some come to work, some to play. A city of strangers, Some come to stare, some to stay. And every day The ones who stay Can find each other in the crowded streets and the guarded parks, By the rusty fountains and the dusty trees with the battered barks, And they walk together past upholstered walls with the crude remarks. And they meet at parties through the friends of friends who they never know. "Do I pick you up or do I meet you there or shall we let it go?" "Did you get my message? 'Cause I looked in vain." "Can we see each other Tuesday if it doesn't rain?" "Look, I'll call you in the morning or my service will explain." And another hundred people just got off of the train. It's a city of strangers, Some come to work, some to play. A city of strangers, Some come to stare, some to stay. And every day Some go away Or they find each other in the crowded streets and the guarded parks, By the rusty fountains and the dusty trees with the battered barks, And they walk together past upholstered walls with the crude remarks. And they meet at parties through the friends of friends who they never know. "Do I pick you up or do I meet you there or shall we let it go?" "Did you get my message? 'Cause I looked in vain." "Can we see each other Tuesday if it doesn't rain?" "Look, I'll call you in the morning or my service will explain." And another hundred people just got off of the train. And another hundred people just got off of the train, And another hundred people just got off of the train, And another hundred people just got off of the train. Another hundred people just got off of the train...