Matchmaker, Matchmaker: Make me a Match

My Sharona got an idea to hook me up with a graphic designer/bartender that works at her friend's restaurant. I've been kind of psyched, mostly because none of my friends ever try to set me up with anyone. (Friends, why is that? Huh? WTF?) Rather, I was psyched, until I just got this in an email from My Sharona about our upcoming Eminem concert (Aw yeah, baby):

I didn't forget about your man. He didn't call me back. And my friend thinks he stole a bottle of rum from the restaurant. Maybe we should put those plans on hold till we're sure he's not a felon.

The cavefish? She will die alone.