I’ve admitted before that I used to be an online dating junkie of sorts. I was. Note the use of the past tense here. Shortly before my divorce was final and for some months after it was final, I decided, out of boredom and curiosity, to find out if dating in 40+ World was as dismal as I’d always thoguht it would be and as horrifying as I heard it was.
It was both as bad as I thought and the horror stories were real. I did meet many of what I call NGBs (Nice Guys, But….). I met many men who were real jerks and after about a year of this exhausting, disappointing and discouraging routine, I gave it up. That was sometime last summer. I took my profiles down and cancelled all memberships and took the summer off.
Sometime around August, near the end of August, I decided to put my profile up on a free site, just out of curiosity. I also put my profile up and paid for one month at my favorite paid dating site (NOT eHarmony –villains!). I do not know why I did this. It was just as I was heading back to school for the fall and the worst possible time for me to even think about dating. Well, I got enough interest from decent people this time around to last me for six more months of something to do besides be alone on the weekends when my kids are at their dads. During this time I actually had two almost relationships, meaning they started out great and almost took off, but didn’t. I recently took my profiles down off all sites after The Beau mentioned he wanted to date exclusively. I was okay with this anyway since I was pretty much tired of the whole Online Meetup thing anyway. Now that The Beau made his grand exit, I am not going to go restore my profiles. At least, I didn’t think I would.
Friday, night, my daughter and I spent the night together. She had taken a few minutes and was playing with her toys in her room and I was checking out my blog stats and emails from all three of my admiring fans. My phone buzzed. I noted a text from my friend and colleague, a 36 y.o. single mother of two.
“I just checked my Yahoo account and the father of one of my students is one of my matches,” the text read.
“Cool!” I texted back. It took me hours to get that much texted. Before I could hit send she pinged me back with “He’s really hot and very nice too. His son was in my class last year too.”
“Really, cool. Here’s one you should check out on Match.” I told her and gave her the username of someone I knew who I think is totally hot. Sadly, he lives too far away. She looked him up and texted me back, “LOL!! He’s got 4 children! Shouldn’t already be out?”
“Nope. The kids are the easy part,” I clumsily texted back. Before I could hit “send” on that message, she was texting me back with “The parent is on Match. Look up his user.” She gave me his user and School Dad was indeed cute. I suggested she get our mutual friend who happens to be this guy’s neighbor to introduce us.
“LMAO! Threesome, nice!” she responded. Then she texted me back saying “Oh my you have to go look up ______________!” and she gave me another user to look up.
“Why?” I texted back.
“Because he’s HOT!” she texted me.
Now, I really did not want to go on Match and begin looking. I’d only gone there to look at the one profile a friend of mine had asked me to check out for him as he began his dating adventures. He’s hot! If he doesn’t get great dates with lots of pretty 30-something’s there is just something wrong with female America. But still, I was a bit of a junkie and curiosity got the best of me.
It was at this point I texted her back saying, ” Okay, I’ll play. But we have to both agree to blog about the experience afterward.”
“Deal” came the lightning fast response. I pulled up the user name of the guy she gave me and there was a man in his mid 50’s with a mowhawk and tattoos head to toe. He looked a bit like Ray Bradbury’s Illustrated Man. I choked on my wine as his profile loaded. Surprisingly, the man was very well written and apparently had two degrees in Art and History.
“Well, the Mohawk guy at least had the sense enough to get someone to write his profile for him,” I quipped. I did a quick search for men ages 39-49 in our area. Sixteen measly pages loaded. I texted her about it. “I bet I’ve dated them all too,” I added. Scrolling quickly through them I noted that I had indeed either dated most of the men or decided against dating them. I then sent her the name of someone whose picture seriously looked like George Clooney, Jr. and whose highest age for a match was 42, effectively cancelling me out.
“He’s way HOT!” she texted me. Then she sent me the name of another candidate, once again far too young for me but just right for her. We went at it like this for about ten minutes with her getting off ten texts to my feeble one. Then I got a swift idea. “Hey!” I texted. “Give me a random Portland zip code”. She did. I searched within 75 miles of the zip code using the same ages I’d used for my local area. 32+ pages loaded. I groaned. I texted her my results.
“LMAO!” came the reply.
“LMAO? It’s not funny! I’m living in the freaking wrong part of the state!”
“ROFLMAO!” was all she texted back.
I scrolled through about 4 pages of wonderfully available and attractive, professional, well-written, educated, well-adjusted, non-redneck men, just my age and finally just gave up. It was torture.
A few minutes later, my fun search texting whatever banter with my friend ended as she had to deal with her kids and I, now completely depressed about the likelihood of romance ever striking in my podunk neck of the woods, had to go have fun with my own daughter.
The next morning I got up and, as though possessed by demons, I created a profile on Match, but did not subscribe. Why did I do this? Stupid, foolish, woman that I am!
This morning, I checked my email and in less than 24 hours I have 40 views, 7 messages and some number of winks. I logged on to Match and, of course, since I am not a subscriber I cannot see who emailed me but I can view the profiles of those who simply winked. I now really like it when men wink! Match has a design flaw here. They should let you at least see who messaged you, but not see what they said. It might make us desperate sorts feel even more desperate and then we’ll part with our hard earned cash and subscribe.
Not me though. I’d have to wait till payday anyway and judging from the winks I got, there’s just nothing new in my hometown. I really am so living in the wrong place right now at least where romance is concerned. Doesn’t anybody out there listen to something besides the Jugg Sisters and the Stetson Brothers? Oh, and you’ll love this. Turns out Mohawk Man, you know, the Illustrated Man, is one of the ones who winked at me. Wait till my friend gets wind of that!!!!!
Have you noticed how a good handy man is always well equipped? If he’s handy, he’s got the tool for the job, no matter what the job. This is something that I used to take for granted until I entered the dating scene in my 40’s. I’ve since learned that not all men are handy nor are they all vested with what I would consider a well stocked tool kit. Some of them are even lacking certain necessary power tools in their arsenal. Little did I know but this is becoming a real concern. Men are losing their tools at an astonishing rate. Read about this 
It is important when I am picking out a hammer that I don’t choose one that is too large or I will not be able to adequately handle the job. I will hurt myself and damage the project. On the other hand, if the hammer is the right size, fits in my hand nicely, isn’t to heavy or too light, I can complete any job quickly, skillfully and with great pleasure and satisfaction in a job well done.
The Wild Mind 