I’m back on the dating scene again.
As some of you know, MOTNSO (“More Often Than Not Significant Other”) and I parted ways a couple of months ago so now I don’t even have a “MOTN” no less an “SO.” He’s a wonderful man and will make someone else a wonderful partner or even husband. I just think our relationship had run its course and it was time for both of us to move on.
So, the only way you can really meet anyone these days when you are in your 60′s is via the internet, which is how I was lucky enough to meet MOTNSO. However, the pickings are poor of late. I also seem to attract the most bizarre people as “matches.” It makes me wonder who is actually doing the matching. Or even worse, what do I have in my profile that sends these “winners” to me?
For example, today one of the dating sites I subscribe to sent me a guy with the message “He could be ‘The One’!” For a split second I was excited and then I realized there was no use getting my hopes up.
“The One” what? Totally insane match of the day? Latest crazy person to hook me up with?
“The One” today had hair to his waist and a beard a totally different color from his hair, almost as long as his hair. He was only 5’6″ which means that his hair was about three feet long and he had to be careful not to tuck his beard into his pants. After I got over the initial burst of hysterical laughter I actually started to read his profile. I am not exaggerating here…this is really part of his self-description, in his own inimitable style: “…i like to photograph anything and everything when it catches my interest. zombies fascinate me, in written words and in movies…”
ZOMBIES? Where in my profile do I mention ZOMBIES? Oh, by the way, “The One” is in the “Travel/Transportation/Hospitality” industry. My best guess? He has a truck that he uses to transport ZOMBIES, probably across state lines, which is even beyond the scope of the FBI’s realm of law enforcement.
Then there was another today who was looking for a “travel partner”…most men, it seems, check off pretty much any and/or all kinds of relationships, the different scenarios being “…casual relationship, serious relationship, travel partner, marriage…” Terms like that. This guy only wanted a “travel partner.” He had a lot of photos (something else you don’t usually see with a man’s profile. Most men are lucky if they can get even one downloaded to their profile.) Well, Match #2 had 13! That’s a huge amount!
Every single picture (but one) featured him holding a fish he’d caught. All manner of yucky stuff oozed from each of the gaping fish mouths and there he stood, proudly displaying the massacre he’d just performed, holding the mouth in one hand and the tail in the other. They were all different species, sizes and colors. By the time I got to the 13th picture I could actually smell the dead fish. It reminded me of the match sent to me a few years ago where that guy only had pictures of himself with dead deer…strapped to the hood of his car, lying in a pool of blood with him standing with one foot on it, etc.
Some other comments that potential dates publish sometimes make me just laugh out loud. In no particular order, apparently a large number of single men in Southern California have a desire to learn to dance the salsa, want only “sensual and sexual” women who are “slender and athletically toned” (that’s a problem for me, right off the bat), they all work out three to five times a week (could’ve fooled me with the photos of you with the pot belly), prefer a woman who has no “baggage”, want to travel the world with their “soul-mate” even though they have an income of less than $25,000. and all are willing to “relocate for the right person.”
Personally, I find it an immediate turn-off if some guy feels compelled to post a photo of himself in a bathing suit. I doubt that I am alone in not being interested in seeing you with your clothes off before I even meet you. There’s an excellent possibility that I may never want to see you with your clothes off and vice-versa.
One of the things that I do miss now that there’s really never any man around the house is his ability to lift heavy objects. I am relatively strong, but I do have back issues off and on so it sometimes is better if someone else does the carting. However, I had this revelation the other day when I brought two very heavy boxes to be mailed. I took along my hand truck, popped it out of the trunk and open, got the boxes on it and wheeled it into the UPS store at the local mall. I was really proud that I’d figured out how to do that without killing myself.
That was when it struck me: Maybe all I need in life is a hand truck. It can do the lifting, requires very little maintenance and doesn’t snore.
On the other hand, it doesn’t give me hugs or tell me I look very pretty.
After the past couple of weeks I’m just starting to think that I am destined to be the Old Maid aunt to my many nieces and nephews. I will never be “Mrs. Zombie” and I’m really okay with that. There probably is no “Miracle Match” out there for me. *sigh*