I tried online dating about 12 years ago, a few years after my divorce. It was a wasteland for me then. I travelled to Colorado to meet a woman that I ultimately wasn’t excited about, who wouldn’t laugh at my jokes, and who thought that I drank too much. I do, at times, but then I was drinking pretty lightly and was on vacation, for crying out loud. We broke it off. A few weeks after driving 14 hours to be disappointed by her, I drove a mere 2 hours to take an Iowa woman to dinner twice. During the appetizer of the second dinner she ‘fessed up that the reason she had a slight mountain twang was that she had just gotten out of 18 months at a West Virginia dormitory-style prison, which was a smart choice, compared to the 20 years she would’ve gotten in the main Iowa penitentary if she had fought the meth charges. We didn’t date a 3rd time. Nobody’s perfect; I mostly think I suck ass, but I draw the line at meth. Or heroin. Or satan-worship (I’m not religious at all, but I support any faith that follows the Golden Rule; as I understand it, ‘Ol Sparky is sorta anti-Golden Rule). Or hearing voices (unless they tell her to screw my brains out and help me clean the bathroom). Or hard-core right-wing politics. (Fiscally conservative=okay. “Trump 2016” t-shirt=a deal-breaker.)
I was fixed up with a woman shortly after that, we dated for 3 weeks, and 9 months or so later my beautiful sweet little daughter came along (she’s mine, by the way; I’ll spare you the gory details, but I have my DNA chart now). I gave up on dating and just spent time on other things.
Flash forward to late 2015/early 2016. I went back to online dating “one last time” now that I’ve turned the dreaded 60. What a fucking thrill. I’ve gotta tell you–there’s nothing more thrilling than having women 30 years younger than me, and a thousand miles away, “favorite” me on there. Um, no. And this is AFTER I went back and added to my profile (after the first couple times it happened) that if you weren’t about 45 to 60 and within a couple hours drive of where I lived, I wasn’t interested. Apparently reading isn’t one of these people’s strong points. They can’t think I have money; I made that clear.
Even more thrilling is when the only women in the “proper age range” and from this area who have expressed interest are (shall we say) “outside of the range of what I consider attractive.” I have a WIDE range of what I consider attractive in middle-aged women, and in what I “feel I deserve,” so you have to work hard to fall outside of that range.
But my little (sometimes medium-sized) mean streak does come out too. I noticed that one woman who rejected me 30 years ago is on there, newly divorced and looking for love. I bear her no ill-will, really, but, yeah, I’m secretly thinking “well, maybe I would’ve been a better choice.” And she wouldn’t have ended up with an awful married surname. But, then, I’ve always been a bit more intrigued by repulsion than by attraction; maybe that’s my problem.
Take magnets, for example (and not just how the fucking things work). What’s more interesting about magnets, that they “click” together if you get the right poles close to each other, or that they repel each other if you hold the “wrong ends” near each other? I picture Christina Applegate, as Kelly Bundy, in her most teenage monotone sarcastic voice, going, “Oh wow, how fascinating that they click together.” As opposed to the repulsion of the 2 positive or 2 negative ends of 2 magnets, which fight each other as if they were living things.
Maybe there’s a reason I never get laid; I’m too busy making magnets hate each other and marveling at it.
And wouldn’t it suck if the woman whose divorce I (not-so-secretly-any-more) was sort of gloating about (like a complete asshole) would “wink” at me or “favorite” me and I’d (of course) have to ask her on a date? I’d feel like an even bigger jerk. And what if she then read this later, if we really got to know each other? Won’t happen, though, because she’s religious and I’ve made it clear I’m not.
I don’t know, though. The reason I know she rejected me in the first place is that, way back when, I made overtures to her and she looked at me like I tried to hand her a dog turd. I may have been a wee bit impaired at the time, so I don’t blame her at all. The reason I noticed her back then was that she was “cute as a button.” She still is, well, way WITHIN the range of what I consider attractive. And maybe now that she’s older, vain morons, who expect match dot com to bequeath them a “trophy wife” 20 years younger than them, don’t look at her as much.
Who knows, maybe one good Saturday night with someone like her would make me agree to go to church with her the next morning.
Now, THAT would be a dating miracle.