Spin Your Partner

It's a dark and stormy night.....so, I'm window shopping the multitude of handsome gentlemen who display themselves with various levels of wit, sincerity, frustration or poor spelling (clearly without their glasses).  

Oh so many, but I'm beginning to feel like I seem them all before....  Have I read this profile previously?  It sounds familiar, looks familiar.  But, I don't think I have....  Have I corresponded with "LookingForLove 283"?  What about "LastFirstDate"?  

After 6 months of active dating, it's becoming a blur of masculinity. Enticing and discouraging at the same time, it sucks you in with possibility--like the roulette table.  Spin the wheel and see where the ball lands...  go again, spin again, place your bet.  Have I landed here before?  

And, I'm receiving round 2 emails from men who have forgotten they had cast a line into my pond a mere two months ago.  One charming, but preoccupied, gentleman sent an introductory email, "I'm blah, blah, blah and your profile jumped out at me.  Would you like to meet?"   A month earlier, Mr. Preoccupied and I had dated three times! Including an evening of dancing and dinner, when I looked particularly hot in a sexy dress!  I'd like to think he is forgetful, rather than I am that forgettable.  

I fear that one day,  I'll walk into the bar, full of anticipation of meeting someone wonderful, and the guy will be Dave #4 that I'd met 3 weeks earlier, in the same bar.  Groundhog Day.  Recycling the old farts.  Scary!  That's when I'll know it's time to quit the dating casino and get a cat.  

For now, I keep the hope alive....spinning the roulette wheel.  I know that Mr. Right is out there looking for me. And the 777 jackpot can happen anytime. 

I just need to keep it all straight.

Shortie Pie Part 1

Sweet Shortie Pie.  His profile includes a photo of his short legs kicking into the air in a yoga headstand.  A sense of humor.  Check!   He's nice looking and in good shape.  Plus, he's into yoga like me.  Check Check!

For 3 weeks, his email languishes in my inbox, his handsome face popping up each time I log on.  Everything about him is dreamboat level, except for one biggie--his height.   At 5'7", he doesn't measure up.  I've dated short men in the past and I seem to lack the little guy chemistry gene. Attraction is a tricky thing that can't be manufactured, and believe me, I've tried to muster up the mojo.  There are many perfectly wonderful men of short stature and I wish I could feel the magic.  But, alas, it can't be forced.  But, maybe, it's different now.  Maybe, I'm different now.  I'll keep the email for the time being.

Then one day, during a momentary memory lapse, which happens far too often, I see that cute face in the inbox and respond to his waiting email.  Actually, truth be told, I mixed him up with another Mr. Maybe profile, also aging in my inbox.  Oh shit!  Within hours, I receive a response, "Would you like to meet?"    Well, okay....he's cute, educated, in shape, possible good partner material, and I'm not having much luck with the tall men.   I decide to go with,  "There are no accidents", and see it as  Divine intervention and go for it.  I'll meet Shortie Pie with an open mind and heart, and my sexiest flats.

It's a beautiful day, so we select a patio table at a lovely natural foods restaurant of his choosing.  We order lunch and commence the cha cha.  He's as cute as his photos, with stunning blue eyes, set off by his blue shirt, and a witty  conversationalist. Within minutes we are gazing into each other's eyes, and talking as if we've known each other all our lives.  He wants to take me to a special event out of town this weekend, but it's too soon for that--way too soon.  Things are going really well.  I like him and he's so sweet!  Yes, I'll see him again..in town.   I stop at the shoe store on my way home to check out the selection of flats.

The following week, we meet for dinner.  Sitting across from each other... laughing and talking and sharing our dreams,  holding hands, our first kiss....the minutes rolled into hours.   I am excited at the prospect of finding such a sweet, intelligent, thoughtful man.  Could Shortie Pie be Mr. Right? Am I over the short stature syndrome?  He walks me to my car and begins to dance with me in the parking lot.  Ah oh.....we are eye-to-eye and it doesn't feel good.  My stomach does a flip flop.  I quickly cut the dance short, jump in my car and say goodby.   Damn.

I'm not ready to give up on this man, just because he is my height.  We talk on the phone and exchange texts.  He's easy going and kind and a bit passive--the peace and love type.  Our next date is dinner and a movie.  

See Part 2 for the continuing saga....

http://datingmrmaybe.blogspot.com/2016/06/shortie-pie-part-2.html

Shortie Pie Part 2

Continued from Shortie Pie  Part One:

http://datingmrmaybe.blogspot.com/2016/06/shortie-pie-part-1.html

I'm not ready to give up on this man, simply because he's legs are lacking length.   I like him and he is gaga about me, and I can see potential for a good relationship--shortness and all.  We talk on the phone and exchange texts.  He's easy going, kind and a bit passive--the peace and love type.  Our next date is dinner and a movie.  Thoughtfully, he offered several choices of movies and theaters.  Such a sweetheart, he is just so nice, maybe too nice.  All goes well and we continue our courtship.  When we are sitting down, my heart is going pitter pat....and it's not so bad when we are standing.  

I invite him to attend a family party Saturday night.  That's a huge step to the next level, as I rarely invite a man to family functions.  He has to be really special for me to suffer the ensuing speculation that comes with the introduction.  "He seems nice.  Do you really like him?" "She brought some guy to the party she met online."  "So, what did you think of the man she brought?  Did you find out anything about him?"  

Shortie Pie picks me up for the first time (I'm a bit old fashioned.  Okay cautious.) bouquet of flowers in hand.  I gush over the flowers and he's very pleased with his gift and my response.  He has a nice bottle of wine for the host--generous, as well as sweet.  At the party, he sticks close to me in the sea of strangers, attentive and agreeable...kind of a puppy dog following me.  Whatever I want is fine with him.  I ask if he wants to leave and he says, "whenever you want."   He offers little to the conversations, just smiles and laughs at my responses.  Is it possible to be too nice?   

In the days that follow, he sends a flurry of mushy texts and calls to tell me he is thinking about me, he wants to see me soon, he is so thrilled to have met me, he is very happy, etc.  I'm on a super sweet man's pedestal and it doesn't feel good.  My halo will fade and I'll fall off the pedestal with a thud and disappoint this open-hearted, loving cutie pie.  I can't take the pressure to be perfect and I know in my heart I'm not feeling the magic.  I need a man that makes me feel safe and secure, a he-man, if not in stature, in decisiveness and confidence.  Women are attracted to the strength of the protector/provider, even if it doesn't look that way sometimes.  

After a couple of days of not responding, I think I'd better say something.  So, I text a photo of the flowers he had given me 3 days earlier, "The flowers are just lovely and they smell wonderful."    Shortie Pie texts back that he is using the flower photo as his screen saver "to remind him of us".  A man secure in his masculinity is good, but a man with flowers for a screen saver is too much.  

It IS possible to be too nice.   I let Shortie Pie down gently.

Multiple Man Weekend

It was a multiple man weekend. Whew!  I'm exhausted!  Meeting 3 men in one weekend is like dancing the cha cha on a roller coaster.

Friday noon was meeting Mr. Manic at the coffee house.  Saturday morning was  frappe-chino with Fuzzy Face at the same coffee house.  Sunday was nonstop with 3 men in one day:  Mystery Man brunch, happy hour with Mr. Manic, and evening wine with another man.  The "downtime" was sprinkled with the those "trying to be casual, but I want to see you as soon as possible" phone calls and texts from Manic and Fuzzy Face.

Mr. Manic is a newcomer looking for a place to land.  He is as loopy and desperate as Mr. Right Now. (see previous blog)   After a mere two or three sips of my coffee, and he asked me to write down on a napkin how I rated our attraction factor.   (He gave it an 8.5).   Maybe he was going to bolt for the door if I gave it a 4.......ya probably.  I refused to give an answer.  I was trying to find his endearing qualities and they were not coming out to play.

 Fuzzy face meet and greet was at the same coffee house. As the name implies, Fuzzy Face showed up with a day old, grey, scruffy beard.  Maybe when he looked in the mirror he saw Brad Pitt.  But, the man across the table from me looked like an old homeless guy.

Hair seems to be the scourge of men as they age.  Their hair shifts from the head to  various orifices.   It grows in places it never grew before, and falls out where it used to be.  Baldness is a given for most men, but it's the extra hair growing from the nose, ears and eyebrows, and that course grey stuff on their face--they don't seem to know what to do with it.  Maybe they can't see well enough to know they have hair screaming for a trim.  Do men ever use a magnifying mirror?  Do men really care?

On to Mystery Man.  He had invited me to a  swanky Sunday brunch, with not even a phone call for introduction.  Nice touch!   I like meeting a handsome stranger.  I was super excited to meet him and had a good feeling about this one.   His 2 year old profile photo is handsome and  debonair, he is clearly generous and maybe......loaded.  Dressed in a sexy dress, high heels and a come hither smile, I did my Sunday best to knock his socks off.   It worked.  And he is enticing and entertaining.  Date number two is coming up.  Wish me luck on this one.

Mr Right Now Part 2

Men are known for dragging their feet when it comes to relationship commitment.  But, then there are the polar opposites: Meet Mr. Right Now.   

Continued from Mr. Right Now  Part 1 
http://datingmrmaybe.blogspot.com/2016/05/mr-right-now-part-1.html

We talked on the phone a couple of times and exchanged emails and now he was coming to visit.  He had retired from a successful law practice and was moving to my city.  He had appointments with realtors, friends and other women (I'm sure) as well as me.  His phone calls had felt like job interviews and I wasn't that excited to meet him.  He was intense and focused and red flags were waving. 

At the appointed time, we met for dinner and conversation.  He is warm, open and generous.  Flirting, flattery and fun ensued.  He shares photos of his family and home in Colorado.  He shares with me his hopes and dreams.  I'm feeling good about this! 

Since he is looking at various locations for his move, I offer to show him around the neighborhood, so we hop in my car to drive around.  He seems harmless enough, so I point out the location where I live, then break a cardinal rule, and invite him in.  He looks around my home, complementing the decor and  spaciousness.  Then Mr. Right Now sits down, looks me in the eye and says,  "Maybe it's a little premature, but I have a proposal.  (Gulp)  "If I should end up moving in with you, I'll give you $X00 which you can keep if we are together in 4 years.  This will cover my share of the living expenses."   

WHAT?  Did I hear that right?  We had met 3 hours earlier and he's talking about living together and the financial terms!  

I can play that game........ "I don't intend to live with a man.  We would need to get married if we are going to be together.  Soooooooo he brought up a pre-nuptial agreement.  A mere 3.5 hours into our first date and we are discussing pre-nuptial agreements!   That has got to be a record!  

I'm exhausted from the intensity.  I shuttle him back to his car and we arrange for a second date. Hopefully, with a 2 day interval, he will settle down from this manic state of finding a place to live and we'll be able to relax and get to know each other. 

The second date is even more intense.  He brings a list of discussion items: financial obligations, health issues, where would we spend holidays, relationships with children, parents and siblings,  vacations, one car or two.   On top of that, he's repeatedly attempting to make out with me!  BLAH!  I couldn't get away fast enough.  

It's been a few weeks since his visit.  I wonder if he found a woman with room in her life and home for a well off, handsome, retired, scary man.  Too many red flags for this woman. 

Mr Right Now Part 1

Men are known for dragging their feet when it comes to a committed relationship. But, then there is the polar opposite, Mr. Right Now. 

Mr. Right Now had just retired from a successful law practice and was ready to be put out to pasture.  He planned to move to my city within a few months and spend his days playing golf and his nights dancing.  He is intelligent, successful, healthy, tall and handsome.  The whole package.  Dreamboat Status with a capital D.

I am intrigued by him and his orderly, successful life.  Mr. Right Now, had not yet earned his nickname and he came across as focused and organized.  Good traits.  He mentions he  needs a large home with ample wall space for his art collection.  He promises he will provide me with a good life, should we move forward.  Oh ya, I could fall in love with a wealthy, handsome man.  I  have my fingers crossed that we will feel the magic. 

Our first phone call felt like a job interview.  He asked questions for a full 40 minutes until I begged off the phone.  Questions about the city, where I live, dancing opportunities, social life, what was I looking for, how many kids, emotional state, how long this and how many that.  Questions that are usually answered during many conversations between interested parties. This was not a conversation.  Red flag.   

After that call, I really thought I didn't want to meet him.  In a moment of Internet dating frustration, I fired off an email saying, "I hope I passed the phone interview today."    I intended it to be a smart ass comment.   He thought I was insecure.

Usually, I don't talk of the phone much before I meet a man.  There is no point in talking on the phone when the essential element of attraction must be felt in person.  The magic attraction is either there, or it's not.  It can't be manufactured or forced. I've passed on several very sweet men because I didn't feel that "special something". 

I digress.  So, Mr. Right Now, to my surprise, calls a second time.  We had some conversation sprinkled in with the battery of questions.  I could still see his checklist and pencil as he's ticking off the answers. Check, check, uh oh, check, check.  I guess I passed.....he's coming to visit. 

See Mr. Right Now. Part 2
http://datingmrmaybe.blogspot.com/2016/05/mr-right-now-part-2.html

Mr. Motor Home

His email read: "Sounds like we have a lot in common."   Well, it's a start....

His profile says he's retired (check) and traveling the land in his motor home (check!)   I could go for that!  He's cute, not too old and he fits my Dreamboat criteria.   

So, I eagerly respond to his email, "Yes we do have a lot in common.  (OK, not that clever) Tell me more about you....."    I gather more facts....home in Wisconsin, travels south in the winter.  My mind leaps to the vision...the two of us, traveling all over the continent in a nice motor home; camping in national parks, staying on the beach in Cabo, visiting friends and family from California to Maine, living a nomad life of fun, exploration and adventure. 

So, we meet on a lovely Sunday afternoon In a cute restaurant.  He's handsome and well dressed.....good sign.  We are seated at a cute little table on the patio, order drinks and settle in to evaluate the human chemistry and dreams, desires and details. 

"So, tell me all about your adventures in your motor home."  

"I started traveling a year ago in my old motor home.  It's not much, pretty old, but it's good enough for me.  I travel with a group of old geezers and we park in the desert outside of Yuma, Arizona in the winter.   A month ago, I left my buddies to come to the city and see if I can find a woman to travel with me." 

POOF!  My fantasy travel just bit the dust! 

"Wow!  You camp in the desert?" I say, trying hard not to sound horrified.  "Isn't it terribly dusty?"  I'm envisioning people with cracked lips and dust caked skin standing next to an old, dust covered truck, like the photos from the dust bowl.

"I guess that's not for you", he said with disappointment, "You are wincing as I speak."

Shuttering at the thought of a rundown, dust covered motor home blazing in the desert sun, I reply, "No, camping in the desert is not my idea of travel."  But, I wasn't ready to give up mearly because of site selection.  "Have you considered traveling to other locations, like the beach, or to cities, or national parks...staying in campgrounds?"  

And that's when he added deal breaker #2.  He was camping in the Elks Lodge parking lot.

We both knew our future together had a snowballs chance in the Arizona desert.

Singles Shopping for Singles

Online Dating is a plethora of possibility.  If you are fortunate to have never dipped a toe in the vast pool of online dating, allow me share some eye-opening statistics. 

At this very moment, when I enter a search on the largest dating site in the US, there are 998 eligible bachelors, between the ages of 55-65 within a 10 mile radius of my zip code. There are 1048 women strutting their stuff in the same age bracket.   

Let's see what happens when I change the age to 25-35...holy smokes!  1541 women and 2000+ men (who are a whole lot hotter than the old guys I'm shopping for). 

The sheer numbers are overwhelming.  Fortunately, it's easy to narrow the criteria based on factors such as height, body type, marital status, race, religion, politics, hair/eye color, horoscope sign, etc..   Let's see what happens if I narrow the field to men 55-65, 5'10" to 6'3", conservative with a few extra pounds:  a mere 27.   Change to conservative, athletic and toned, and it jumps to 131.  Apparently, most conservative, single men work out, or they lie about their body type.  The athletic liberals are a scarce 64 and the chunky liberals are rare indeed--7.    

This could be fun to play with--bald, overweight, smoker, divorced, who like to dance, or 6'3" separated, Sagittarius skier with slate blue eyes---the combinations are endless!  Anyway, you get the idea. 

My usual search brings up 330 average to athletic, slightly tall, non smokers within a 10 mile radius of home.  So far, I've met about 15 of them....yikes!  I need to narrow the field!

Bachelor Number One

My first dance in the dating cha cha is Mr. Writer.  He is an accomplished writer, contributing articles to business journals and travel magazines.  His profile paints a picture of looks, intelligence, education and possible tag-along business trips for yours truly.   We exchange emails and make plans. 

We meet at a local restaurant for a glass of wine--aka a "meet and greet".   Short and sweet.  A quick excape if it doesn't work out.  But, we hit it off and order dinner and another wine.  He's smart and interesting with lots of adventurous stories.  He's in pretty good shape.  And he likes me too.  When we part ways we have plans to meet again.  This is starting out really well.    

A few days later, we get together in the afternoon to take a walk in the park.  We are  absorbed in talking and sharing and holding hands.  I could see myself with this guy....down the road.  But, I hadn't really SEEN Mr. Writer.   I mean, I hadn't really LOOKED at him.  Then, in the blaring light of day, as he reaches for my hands across the table and we look into each other's eyes....I take a good look at him for the first time.  As we continue to converse, I become fascinated with his bushy mustache. It is a thing to behold.  It's all I can see of him.  

I wonder...where does his mustache end and his nose hair begin?

Needless to say, I didn't kiss him goodby....

Brave New World of Dating

I am venturing into the Internet dating world.  Taking a deep breath and diving into...... well...wading into the sea of singles.  

With all the bravery I can muster, I create my online profile. Upload my best photos, reveal my age, interests and background.  I carefully pen a summary of my dreams and desires.   With both excitement and trepidation, I hit Submit.  Ready or not, here I go....Dating Mr. Maybe.  

While awaiting profile approval, I eagerly begin a search of men in my age group (middle aged to old fart).  There are literally hundreds of eligible bachelors within a 10 mile radius of my zip code.   They come in all shapes and sizes; hairy, bald, bald with facial hair, (what are they hiding under that scruffy beard?) fat, skinny, muscular, big belly, tattoos, handsome, suave, cute, gross and scary.  Their photos show them in tuxedos at their daughter's wedding, sitting with their elderly mother, petting a dog on their lap, straddling a motorcycle, standing next to an expensive car or holding up a big dead fish.  I wonder how current some of these photos are.....

This is better than shoe shopping!  All these men to shop!  I am delighted to find a selection of handsome strangers smiling at me from my iPad screen.  They are not only handsome, their profiles describe them as adventurous, sensitive, romantic and rich!  Not one single dead fish photo anywhere in my potential suitor list. Perhaps I'll meet Mr. Right and get off this dating site quickly.  We will ride off into the sunset to a life of adventure and romance.  (Well, why not?  I still have a Cinderella fantasy, only Prince Charming has grey hair and might need a little pharmaceutical assistance.)   I get to work sending a few emails to the cream of the crop.

My profile is approved and published and immediately, the emails and winks begin to pop into my inbox.  The first day, I receive 9 emails, 11 likes and 7 winks.

The dating Cha Cha has begun.