I went on a date with my former flame. As you know, we hadn't seen each other in 30 years. He had some very nice things to say upon seeing me. That's always a good start. He reminded me that he used to come visit me while I was babysitting. (That was common in the 80s. He never got beyond second base. I had aspirations of being a virginal bride.) He's not exactly my type, unfortunately. He's covered with tattoos now and we're about the same height with heels (me, not him.) It was a great date, though. I'm glad I went. Very insightful.

 

He's super laid back and very much the way I remember him from the 8th grade. Very sweet. He's a former Marine with two grown children. Part of the reason we're not a match is our polarizing levels of fitness. He's cross fit in nature, I'm more couch surf in nature. I'm exaggerating about my fitness level. As you know, I go to the gym (half-heartedly) but, I also like rock climbing (been three times in 9 months), and I love speed walking (3mph). So, I'm not too bad. He said he works two jobs because he hates sitting on the couch watching TV until 11pm. Hmm. I hate that too but, I'm not at all opposed to doing it. So there's that.

 

Anyway, we talked about our experiences with online dating. He recently got out of a 2 year relationship with a woman half his age (red flag) that broke his heart. I asked if they had anything in common to talk about, he said she was his best friend. "Okay," I thought, "pink flag?" He continued to tell me about the Tinderella's (single women on Tinder looking for their Prince Charming. Appropriate. Right?) he was meeting on Tinder and Plenty of Fish then said I was a "breath of fresh air." He told me the story of one woman who was very attractive that he was really looking forward to meeting for coffee. They had plans to meet later in the afternoon. Apparently, they had been texting throughout the day and he let her know that he was going out for a run before their date. In the rain. Well, she angrily texted back something along the lines of "you're lying! I know you're meeting another woman!" Umm. They hadn't even met in person yet! It's one thing if there's some skin in the game (aka sex) but, it was the first date. For coffee!

 

I was immediately taken aback but thought about it on the way home, along with another story he shared. He met another attractive woman who started rubbing his leg provocatively within 10 minutes of meeting him at a bar. Now, he's a good looking guy but, who does that? (She should meet the naked perv from my gym. They may be a match.) He said he sees that move a lot. I was horrified. Thankfully, so was he. (I remember his mom, she raised him well.)

 

Can I just tell you? Both stories were shocking to me but the more I thought about those women, I started to understand. The more I understood, the more I started to recognize the behavior. I was mortified and immediately thought, "shame on me." I have been trying to find a match since I was sixteen years old. I've dated  a whole bunch of men of varying degrees of "off kilter." (It was funny, my stepdad commented that the last one I was dating seemed a little too straight-laced for me. Little did he know…)

 

Anyway, the older I get, the less patient I get with any sort of bologna. My reaction to things that don't go the way I want has regressed. Instead of going with the flow, I think I get a little edgy/bitchy. I hate to use the word, "bitchy." It sounds too female and derogatory. I only use it here because I think you will understand what I'm talking about. For example, I had a date scheduled on a Friday night. The string of texts associated with the cancelling of the date sounded fishy so, my texts in return were short in nature and without the help of emoticons to lighten the tone. (Have I mentioned how much I hate texting?) However, the tone in my voice may have been worse. I was disappointed but, exponentially disappointed because I had skin in the game.

 

In retrospect, it may have been an innocent, unavoidable situation or, another date. Regardless, it was a budding relationship that could have gone anywhere. It wasn't fair for me to react the way I did but, hearing about someone else doing something along the same lines (I wasn't nearly as accusatory or so I hope!) was a very helpful eye opener. I was upset because I felt like I wasn't getting a return on my investment. I had quit looking, all my eggs were in one basket and my Dow seemed to be heading south. It was a bummer, it continued to spiral through the weekend until it fizzled out. So disappointing but, probably, avoidable had I diversified.

 

I thought about the other Tinderella. What was she thinking? Was she just feeling sassy or did she think that's what she needed to do to get his attention? I suppose we're all looking for essentially the same thing, we just want to find our match so we can stop looking. So much media attention is on women giving more and more of themselves sexually. Nothing is shocking anymore. We've lost track of our moms' voices in our heads telling us to act like a lady. Is that old fashioned? I don't care. Someone I dated once told me, "If you were a little less conservative sexually, you'd be married by now." "FU," I thought. That relationship petered out pretty quickly. Phew.

 

I'm grateful to all the lessons I've learned from dating but, I'm sick of looking. I don't want to settle but, I'm tired of the fluctuating market. Where's the VC who wants to invest in me?

Online dating is cracking me up. I came across my first boyfriend. Of course, I swiped right. I haven't seen him in almost 30 years. He was only my boyfriend at school because I wasn't allowed to date. If a boy called my house, both my mom and stepdad would get on the phone and tell the young man, that I was WAY too young to date and he should never call the house again. (Nah, that wasn't too embarrassing. Every time it happened, though, I had trouble breathing.)

 

I did go on a real date with my second boyfriend, I was 14. It was a double date with his brother who was old enough to drive, we were going to play mini golf. He came to the front door to pick me up. My mom answered the door and angrily told him that the only reason she was letting me go out was because I "haunted the shit" out of her (she only swore to make a point) and I wasn't allowed to date boys yet. I stood behind her mortified but grinning ear to ear because I was going on my first real date. I'm surprised my lip didn't get caught in my braces but something else did.

 

Can I just tell you? I hate mini golf. You'd think I would love it given my affinity for the driving range. During my date, as I was blissfully smiling, a little black fly got trapped in my braces. I almost had a heart attack. There was no way I was going to make a scene. I had to fish that little sucker out with my tongue and discreetly spit it out. Gross. I hate spitting! I've said it before, I think it's grosser than farting. Especially with a fly in it! It really put a damper on my night. Had I known then that that would be a foreshadowing of the rest of my dating life, I would have surely become a nun. Unfortunately, I'm not Catholic.

 

Anyway, I wasn't allowed to date until I was 16. Then, it was STRONGLY suggested I date a Greek boy. In fact, my parents thought it would be a good idea if I dated a 21 year old Greek "boy." That lasted a couple weeks. How it lasted that long is beyond me. I was a giggly juvenile, with braces. I "blossomed" early but was a late bloomer for everything else, including my face. I had a baby face with full, chubby cheeks and dimples on my knuckles until I was in my 30s.

 

So, my first significant other and I connected online. He started texting and told me about his life. As you know, my age is fudged a little bit. He asked if I'd like to meet him. I said, "Sure!  We've already met though. I lied about my age. We went to junior high together." His response, "Get outta here." That made me laugh. It is such a New England thing to say, especially in my neck of the woods. I assured him it was true. He asked me my last name and wondered if I knew his last name. I told him my full name. His response, "I just fell over." Ha! Then, "You don't look like you! Or what I remember." Well, I was a 13 year old… With braces… And, feathered hair that was shellacked with Aqua Net. Eighties perfection. His next text, "I do remember you broke my little heart." Poor guy. I remembered that, too.

 

He hasn't changed much, other than growing up. I recognized his dad in one of his profile pictures. So funny. We're going to meet for a beer. I told one of the ladies in my office. She was excited for me; I wasn't as hopeful. I am looking forward to catching up. However, I'm not as excited about dating as I was this summer. Work is starting to get a little busier and, honestly, I'm so tired of being disappointed.

I texted that man with the love note from the gym. We went back and forth all weekend via text. (You know how much I love that.) He claims he's a lacrosse coach at UNH and proceeded to send me a picture of himself at the Wildcats gym. As soon as I saw the picture, I knew he was WAY too young. He looks like he's maybe in his late 20s. Clearly, he didn't get a good look at me at the gym. Otherwise, he would have been stopped in his tracks by my angry elevens. Oh well. I figured I'd meet him for a beer. "Maybe he was just young looking," I thought. However, my bff, Google, told me he is not, in fact, a lacrosse coach at UNH. Nor is he even an intramural coach. Red flag number one but, again, what harm is going for a beer with a fibber?

 

Well, he was texting me some questionable things today for someone whom I've never met in person or talked to on the phone. He thought it would be a good idea for us to take a nap together in this heat. I sent him the emoticon with the red cheeks and wide eyes in response. He continued texting while I was in a school meeting. (Fortunately, my phone was on silent.) I didn't see the texts until I was on my way home. He sent me an "oh well" when I didn't reply immediately to his innuendo texts.  (Umm, someone has a real job here.)

 

Anyway, I texted back that I wasn't going to the gym tonight because it was too hot. He replied that he was planning to go running and would love to go naked. Then, he thought it was okay to send me a picture. OF HIMSELF NAKED!

 

Can I just tell you? I was horrified! Who does that?? I immediately wrote back, "Not appropriate." I felt like saying, "Shame on you!" but that would have really given away my age plus 10 years. As you know, I'm a juvenile. Slightly. I forwarded the picture to two friends. They were both equally offended. Alison's text back was, "Why did you do that??? My eyes are burning!" I told her that I was so offended, I felt like another pair of eyes (or two) needed to see. I certainly couldn't send it to my mom. Although, that may temporarily stop the pressure to "find someone. Anyone!" Ugh.

 

He replied to my "that's not appropriate" comment with, "it was a joke. Lol." "Okay, well now I'm doubly offended because you're not funny either," I thought. The picture didn't show his penis. Thank God. It was of his torso from the top of his pubic hair line (WAY below the bathing suit tan lines.) to his neck. So gross.

 

Why do men think that's okay??? It's not! Ohmygod. Anyway, immediately I assessed my life. I tend to only attract what I put out there and I thought, "Oh my gosh! Have I been inappropriate in any way? Did I do or say something vulgar?" In my assessment, I thought, "Nope, I don't think so."

 

I am going to have to tone it down on my head following the other cute guy at the gym who's closer to my age. May be a little excessive in my approach. I'll try a sweet smile next time. Good thing I floss.