Ghosted on Match.com
I know. I know. Mercury is in retrograde a few more days so I should’ve immediately realized the guy who was hitting me up was either married, an ax murderer, an at-home- jackoff- of all trades, or a fake…but what the heck? I was looking for love.
It all started out quite innocently. His profile pix were as goofy as mine, his description not over the top but with a certain sense of je ne sai quoi, and he appeared real, enough so to peak my interest and mark him with a petite heart. Well, land sakes and gosh golly me, he hearted me back and thus began three days of texting, his often bordering on sexting, a bit too romantic for just signing on, but hey It was just text, all of which should have given me a big ass clue that this guy was not interested in the real deal…too bad since I am… the real deal, that is. Even so, silly me, I was willing to see where it would go, which was nowhere, abruptly.
And so here I sit, in my planetary chair, dogs at my feet, with my iPad, kerplunking these words as I process this weird feeling of not exactly being rejected. You see as soon as I suggested we actually speak to one another the guy, blocked me, and dropped off the virtual face of the planet. Wowie zowie. Maybe his wife discovered he was computer cheating? He spilled coffee on his keyboard? He was insecure about his speaking voice? He read my other blogs? I could go on, thanks to my imagination.
That was a first for me, even though I’ve not exactly been communicating with hordes of single senior men, but really, not even a “so long, sucker”?, which, had he played his cards right…
Nevertheless, she persisted, not with him, because why??? I’m certainly not desperate. I have a new vibrator and I’m not afraid to use it.
Lookie here. I may be older than a 40,50,60, even 69 year old but I’m pretty f’g fab, except perhaps for the snoring (hey he – whoever- doesn’t have to sleep over) and an extra 16.5lbs of COVID 19 belly (which is slowly going bye bye due to yoga and taping my mouth shut between calorie reduced meals). Besides the negs, which are few… Gawd, it’s taken me all these years to come to the realization I’m a great, caring, intelligent, creative, reasonably healthy and adorable human with a wit to match. And even though I’ve not been a great picker of men, except for the wonderful one, Max, who got cancer and fucking died, I believe another good one could carry me through til the killer asteroid crashes into Texas or time is up due to natural or artificial causes.
Face it, Online dating,(in these dastardly times of COVID and waning (hopefully) Trumpism,) may be the only way to meet a real someone whose fancy we might mutually tickle. I’m figuring it’s gonna happen as soon as the Great Gaia and her sidekick Cupidity hone in on a real, honest to goodness match. Until then I’m remaining calm.