Allright, second installment here…
I have some more editing to do on this, some tightening, but it’s ok right now and I haven’t been posting a lot so I thought I’d put this up. Thanks for reading!
“I want you to be funny. I will take a good sense of humor over a 6 pack any day. I actually mean that. I don’t date a lot but I brake for funny”.
Those words are in my OK Cupid profile. And in my Match. com profile. And my OurTime profile ,which is the one for the old folks, so not really much point to the 6 pack reference but it gets the idea across. They were also on my EHarmony profile before I quit them. I actually believe that EHarmony purposely screens out any even mildly hilarious comments , as well as any men over 5’8”.
I have done a LOT of internet dating and it has been hideously unsuccessful for me. There was one good guy that I spent some quality time with, and by quality time I mean that he wasn’t very funny but he was damn sexy and liked to drink as much as I did back then. That was entertaining for a while until I got bored and started back looking for what I had been looking for before, and probably still am…my hysterical dead husband. It’s worse now that I am sober because I am even more unwilling to settle, and by settle I mean go on a second date.
I have not been on a second date since 2010.
Here’s the thing. Dating at my age is easy, seriously. I have had a life and I have things to talk about. I may not be entirely fascinating, but I am an open book, I have a sick sense of humor that I’m not afraid to use, and I can make things up if I get really desperate. The problem is that the men I meet are just so boring. Mind numbingly boring. How do you reach our ages and have nothing to say? Maybe it isn’t fair for me to put it all on them. I am sure that the man I met for lunch who regaled me with stories about his collection of match lighters, igniters I think he called them, and the newsletter he wrote about them for other collectors, was fascinating, really. To the right woman, a catch. The guy who only wanted to talk about all the terrible dates he’d been on and how he was giving up dating for good after me? That was so not interesting. And slightly hurtful, I might add. Then there was the date who taught high school and gave me some insight into my son and his issues. Mind you I didn’t tell him much about my son or ask him for his opinion and my son was already well out of high school, but he felt compelled to explain and I felt compelled to have a sudden, awful migraine.
There was the dream guy who I actually did go out with twice. He had tickets for a pre-release screening of Batman. I LOVE Batman, particularly the Dark Knight version with Christian Bale, I’m a little nerdy about it in fact. So this was chance to see it before anyone else and I was hooked. Afterwards we were able to chat a little over Starbucks and he seemed ok, actually made me chuckle a couple of times ,and, since obviously I had established some real intimacy with the guy in allowing him to know about my Batman fetish, when he asked for a second date I threw all caution to the wind and accepted. The second date was where I learned about his dreamwork. He was involved in dream interpretation, holding groups in his home twice monthly where he helped people relive their dreams. He was imminently qualified to do this important work, he assured me, based on all the internet research he had done for the last year on the subject. I was a little sad that he was unaware that I was actually sleeping during dinner, eyes wide open, head nodding at regular intervals as he expounded. If he had been perhaps he could have interpreted my desperate dream to just get the hell away from him.
Look, admittedly it isn’t always just me who doesn’t want that second date, often it’s mutual, Sometimes I am willing to give them another chance, actually hope they will ask me out again and they don’t (I know, so hard to understand, right?) The sad thing is that I always put out on the 2nd date, that’s kinda my thing, so whatever, their loss.
There have been more, too many more to count. They all, however , had one thing in common, well, two things. …none of them were funny, and none got a second chance. One offs, all of them. When the only laughs we have are those I force myself by working every last ounce of wit and charm out of my completely bored and disinterested brain to say something funny enough to allow a laugh to erupt from their way older- than -their -picture -anyway looking mouths , well, that’s not going to work for me.
I keep trying though. There is a part of me that really wants to quit but what if, what if, somewhere out there he’s waiting, resplendent in all of his age appropriate, intelligent, smart and smart-assed glory, shining with sarcasm and ready and willing to give me all I really want, and what I really miss…an honest, heartfelt and balls-out laugh.