I’m dating…have been using a dating site for Boomers – better than some alternatives (hoping to meet someone while in the check-out line at the supermarket…), worse than others (finding like-minded people at your place of worship or interest groups).
And might I say…What a trip!
I’ve had many a fun time; I’ve also experienced things from the surprisingly stupid to the downright weird (coming later in this post). If my not so great experiences are typical, and I think most likely they are, I can comfortably assure all of you in dating mode that anything you’ve experienced, I have too. And so have lots of others.
I do like dating – the “getting-to-know-you” portion of the process. I’ve met quite a number of interesting & accomplished men, and am better for it. I’ve been treated quite well by the good guys, and have had quite a few laughs, terrific philosophical discussions, and learned a few things. I can go out, have a few cocktails and some great conversation, with no expectations other than a heartfelt thank you at the end of the evening.
And while in full disclosure mode, it’s important to add that I’m not desperate to find someone, so I’m mindfully taking my time. I don’t feel unfulfilled without a man, I’ve grown quite comfortable with my independence – the thought of sharing my personal space 24/7 sounds a bit more like a chore than desirable – and I like getting to know new people whether or not there’s on-going compatibility potential (not yet…admittedly I am quite picky). Finding no one yet who rings my bell is not distressing.
As for my dateability, I’m moderately attractive, generally accomplished, have a decent sense of humor and basic social skills, and I have RA (Rheumatoid Arthritis), thus this package has it pros and cons. But, ladies and gents, so do most Boomers’; I’ve met guys who have diabetes, heart conditions, are substantially overweight, or have any of a number of other physical limitations, who see no correlation between their limitations and my own (theirs is no big deal; mine’s a huge burden…). I don’t let such laughable hypocrisy cause angst…remember the words “laughable” and “hypocrisy”…
So, for all of you taking this ride as well, I’ve compiled a few of my, shall we say more unfortunate encounters, that fit well in a list of do’s & don’ts, in the hope that when (notice I didn’t say “if”) you experience any/all of these, you won’t sell yourself short by tolerating them, nor, most importantly, take others’ bad behavior personally – so you can not only shrug off the bad while enjoying the good, but take the goof-balls in stride:
- Have teeth (I’m in Florida…)
- Let me know if no you’re longer interested
apparently social skills have escaped many of our generation; or perhaps too many guys are cowardly, but simply not responding to a “thanks for the get together” because I’m not your type, is just rude
- include a pic…a recent pic….
no pic attached to the profile translates to no response from me (no pic usually means married, but regardless, I want to know what you look like as much as you do me…)
then there’s the posted pic taken 10 years and 100 pounds ago – men complain about women using old/no longer applicable pictures, yet they’re equal opportunity offenders
- read what I’ve written…
I’m up front about my RA, as well as my dislike of those canned “flirts” sites create for you to use and my preference to meet in person vs chatting by phone or email, yet I get lots of canned flirts, have guys insist on talking at length by phone before meeting (so…you chose me why?), and they somehow miss the part about RA (it’s on line 2…)
- pay attention; stop repeatedly sending those darned flirts when you contacted me 5 times before then never responded when I answered you; also see above about sending canned flirts when I’ve mentioned how much I don’t like them in my profile…
- let me know if something’s changed for you
I’ve had guys set a place/date/time to meet, then not show (“oh, yeah, I forgot…”), or tell me they can’t make it only after I’ve checked to make sure we’re still on (I do that now that I experienced the no-show)…a modicum of communication skills isn’t too much to ask…
- contact me if you live in other parts of the country
I’m not interested in being your keyboard pal, dating by phone, or any other long-distance concept; call me old fashioned, but face to face is a must for me
- get a room on the first date (really…someone did that…) – if sex is what you’re looking for, try an escort rather than a dating service
- be hypocritical…as mentioned above, you have a heart condition, or high BP, or diabetes, or one of many other afflictions that come with being our age…so stop treating my RA like the plague
- suddenly change up…don’t make final arrangements to meet, then a few hours prior set some new hurdle I must jump before we do; if you have specific criteria about anything, say so up front – know your own mind
- refuse to make eye-contact, or look everywhere else in the place but at me throughout the entire date
unless you have Tourette Syndrome or some other malady that causes you to lose control of bodily functions, you asked me out…show me the basic courtesy of not acting like you’re embarrassed to be seen with me…
- come dressed like you’ve just finished cleaning your garage…and didn’t bother to change before leaving the house
To take you out, here’s my favorite “bizarre behavior” story for your reading pleasure:
On a first date, the gentleman and I had a cocktail at an establishment overlooking the water (nice!); we sat at the bar (my choice). The bar’s set-up was such that some top shelf liquors were within reach on our side (admittedly not a wise set-up). When the bartender didn’t respond quickly enough to his need for a refill (the place was slammed), he reached across the bar, picked up a bottle of Hennessey (goes for $10-$15/pour depending on the establishment), and helped himself to a triple pour.
When I enlightened him on the reality of what he did (the bartender will pay for that out of her wages), you will not be surprised to learn he didn’t care…
I excused myself, and found a discreet way to let the bartender know what he did, and direct her to give me the check for the pirated booze. We left shortly thereafter (I wanted outta there…); he paid for my drinks and those the bartender poured for him.
As I awaited my car at the valet, he breezed past me on the way to his, pronouncing as he walked by “next time you’re buying the drinks…”
The next day I wrote him with the following message:
1. there will be no next time…
2. take heart knowing that I did in fact buy you drinks; I paid for the liquor you stole.