Wanted: A cool man with lots of energy

THE rivers of sweat originate at the crown of my head and spider in all directions until they’re trickling past my temples and down the base of my neck. My brain is boiling, which, along with any number of other pertinent factors, is making me reevaluate the criteria on which I judge potential love interests.

We’re having a wickedly hot summer in the Southland, and this Valley girl is about to put together a revised wish list that considers the mercury along with the man.

“Must love dogs” will be replaced by “Must have air.” Who cares if he’s geographically desirable, so long as he’s air conditioning adjacent?

Power grids are strained to the limit, and blackouts are an every-other-day occurrence. Even the beach dwellers are suffering -- darn the luck! -- and we’re all using our breathiest hyperbole to discuss the record-breaking temperatures around the area. “One hundred twelve degrees in Woodland Hills? It’s like Death Valley!”

It’s times like these when those of us without air conditioning -- I can hear you panting -- start to face a few truths. Al Gore was right, and we might want to rethink those creature comforts while there’s still such a thing as Freon.

And another thing: Very few people can pull off the eau-de-sweat-mixed-with-Obsession.

Where dating is concerned, perhaps singles should let the urgent advisories from meteorologists and the DWP take on broader implications. We should simply slow down and stop overexerting.

The searing heat can be as good a reason as any to shed some metaphorical weight, paring that unrealistic laundry list of qualities and deal-breakers that we apply to anyone who shows interest.

Maybe many of us have been too demanding and unyielding. Maybe our ideals are way out of touch with reality. Maybe I’m just too sun-dumb to put up with overearnestness right now, but the guy who’s conversant on the strategic placement of fans is much preferable to the “searching for my muse” poseur from the Yahoo personals.

In a town where someone’s status or wheels can make or break them -- it’s not the S-Class? -- it could be as refreshing as a run through the sprinklers to see some truly uncomplicated answers on those pseudo-psych profiles on dating sites.

Question: What’s the relationship like between your parents, and how does it make you feel?

Answer: How much time you got?

Better answer: I like popsicles!

Question: If you didn’t need to be concerned about money, what would you do with your life?

Answer: After joining the Peace Corps and adopting a pair of Namibian children ...

Better answer: Get a bunch of water balloons, call all my friends

It shouldn’t be so tough to find someone who shares a common interest in a hermetically sealed, well-cooled environment, right? Apparently it is, according to some disturbing facts recently reported in this paper’s news pages. Fewer than 1 in 4 homes in L.A. has central air, and fewer than half have any type of air conditioning at all.

As if we needed any further draining of the meager pool of potential love connections. Some of my friends and I have begun to think we have about as much chance of meeting a quality guy as we do of getting struck by lightning during one of those freak thunderstorms.

There could be hope from an unlikely place, though. The same news story mentioned that more than 87% of homes in Riverside County and 80% in San Bernardino County have air.

What’s wrong with dating in the 909? Maybe not a darn thing.

T.L. Stanley may be reached at weekend@latimes.com.