Wednesday, April 23, 2014

It's A Date?


Sorry. I have no anecdote today, though I'd be wiling to pay big bucks for an antidote for an ongoing problem.

That problem is loneliness. Specifically, I'm a guy. I'm single. And even though I probably mutter weird things in my sleep, I'm not an entirely imperfect match for someone seeking a means to combat her loneliness, social isolation, and the dust which now coats the tennis racket in her closet even as I type this on my Hewlett-Packard Prince Charming 2.0.

One might be led to believe that even mentioning my loneliness would be a real social turnoff. I'm not ready to accept that. The fact that an entire loneliness industry exists is proof enough to me that mentioning such things is not only not a turnoff, it's something which deserves a shout-from-the-rooftop mention from time to time. I've engaged in such shouting here in months past, with solid positive feedback. No offers marriage, or perhaps to repay my $141,097.24 student loan debt, mind you, but the many "attaboys" sent me have certainly encouraged my behavior, in addition to enabling my carefully-cultivated narcissism.

I suppose the "attaboys", mainly, have kept me going. That helps when one encounters scary folks on Internet dating sites. Of the three I subscribe to, but don't actually pay for (insert smarmy joke about crushing student loan debt here), one is keen on providing me with updates from women who have expressed an interest in meeting me. "Is the feeling mutual?", asks one site whose bells and whistles are enticing even when the women aren't. It's occasionally when that question is posed to me that a photo looking something like this pops up on the screen:

Seriously, someone actually posted this as her "I want to meet you" pic. I don't know what the water is like in Orange, Va, but it's a safe bet that I won't be heading in that direction anytime soon. No offense, but some people tend to overdo the Botox.
I enjoy a good laugh as much as anyone else does. (My doctor recently suggested that I begin wearing support hose for two leg conditions. Thankfully, he laughed when I asked if they came in fishnet style.) One wonders, though, how serious the woman is about attracting men when she tries to pass herself off as Morticia Addam's vitamin-deficient aunt.
There are, of course, other interesting women who cannot fail to gain my attention. Mildred27760 lives near a swamp. "I'm turned off by men who don't like to camp", imparts the woman who has captured more alligators than I have eaten pizzas before my recently imposed diet. "Looking for a man who isn't afraid of snakes."
I'm reminded of the summer of '78 when I was camping with friends at a nearby lake. One afternoon I was swimming perhaps a hundred or so feet from the shore when an Army Corps of Engineer representative sped by in a boat bullhorning to "clear the water! There are water moccasins in the water!", thereby answering the question regarding what it was that was brushing past me while I was now Mark Spitzing my way back to the camp site. Mildred seemed as unfazed by her own encounters with snakes as SEAL Team 6 apparently was during their training. I was a little concerned, myself. I might have shared my experience with the dear lady in the hopes of establishing rapport with the outdoorsy lady. Camping in such an environment as a swamp, however, encourages my mind to wander. Let's say I decided to express a mutual interest in her. Right off the bat I now have to spend a lot of money on camping gear and snake anti-venom. Money is tight. It would become even tighter when I paid some far off emergency room five thousand dollars for treatment of snake bites and Lyme disease. "A real man would have taken his Gerber Mark II knife and sliced into those snake bites" Mildred would have chided. "Then he would have sucked that wimpy cottonmouth poison out and spit it back into the snake that bit him" would continue the derision from the hardened woman while the stretcher ,which she had fashioned from pine boughs and vines, continued its horse-drawn journey back to Camp Annie Oakley.
This, of course, leaves me with another potential date: "Pink Pajamas" -a recent arrival from New Hampshire, is doing her above the Mason-Dixon Line best to fit into the rural South. "Hi! I'm working on my second doctorate. I love to take walks on the beach, travel around the world, and have my books published each year. I'm a divorcee with two children who still live with me. The older of the two recently celebrated his thirtieth birthday. I'm seeking a life partner who enjoys living in a custom built, 8,000 square foot home in the country. Please contact me privately to let me know the specifications of your Bentley so I can have the garage widened."
This, of course, provoked my envy and left me in a funk for four straight days.
All told, the dating sites include many wonderful women. I've read any number of bios from wonderful, down to earth ladies. I don't include those bios since I lean toward the humorous ones. The focus here is on the ones which really stand out with such marvelous grandiosity that it becomes too compelling not to recount them. And, while reading them I'm often reminded of my own weaknesses and vulnerabilities. That's why I don't intend to make fun of anyone. No one's perfect, though I'm very pretty.
At least, that's what Peggy Lou From Kalamazoo says. She's a graphic artist.
She creates posters for Ringling Brothers and Barnum And Bailey.

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