Tag Archives: Humor

Social Adventures, Part 1 – Internet Dating

I would normally post an interview today, (big apologies to those of you who were looking for one) but I thought I’d deviate from the usual and tell you all about something that is such a common part of our culture now. I am going to share one of my recent social adventures — dating, more specifically, dating sites. The following may seem far-fetched, but keep in mind, fact is usually stranger than fiction. As for the following… Every. Word. Is. True.

GIFSec.com

Having been in a lengthy relationship (which I stayed with long past its expiration date), I found myself at a loss when I made the decision to end it. After all, now I’m almost 7 years older and long out of the game, where does a fifty something woman meet men? Church? Not likely. Most of the men that attend only do so because they have a WIFE that guilts them into it. Club? I’m not a drinker, a smoker, or a cougar – so…. no. Someone suggested the obits. Seriously? I thought that only worked in nursing homes and on The Golden Girls. Anyway, I’m well past the age of using my kids to snag introductions to their friends’ single fathers and I’m not inclined to run up and down a soccer field while coaching a bunch of twelve-year-olds in the hopes of impressing some singleton in the stands. So, what’s a girl to do?

Internet dating. So avant-garde, right?

I decided to make a pros and cons list (really just a stall tactic). I began with the pros.

  1. Can be done from a plane on the way to a meeting or from the comfort of my recliner, while wearing PJ’s. (That in itself made it worth doing.)
  2. For the $39.95 ‘start-up’ fee, I am able to browse thousands of men without having to fix my hair or wear makeup.
  3. There’s no pressure and no obligation to browse.
  4. If (and when – because most often, there is a when) they cross that line, I can rid myself of them with the click of my mouse. Much easier than pretending to be sick or sneaking out the back door of a comedy club (True story).
  5. And I can do all of this while wearing PJ’s!!! I know I said that before, but it bears repeating.

So, even with so few pros and a legal pad full of cons, I signed up. I’d like to say I went with Match.com because I compared many internet-dating sites and they offer the most value for your money or because they have the highest success rate, but the truth is, I chose them simply because the photographs of the men (actors) they use in their ads kicked the competition’s butt! Have you seen them? And possibly because the guy from the eHarmony commercials creeps me out a little….

Once I input my profile information and uploaded my photos, I clicked off and went to bed, anxious to see whom they matched me with.

Day 1 – WOW. Would you look at all of the emails, winks, likes, pokes, prods, and favorites I got since last night? This is going to be easier than I thought.

Day 1, evening – Read through every last email, ignored the pokes and prods, clicked yay or nay on my twenty-four daily matches. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Not one mutual like. But, it’s only day one.

Day 2 – Considerably fewer emails, but all I need is one, right? I did get a second email from a man who had sent one yesterday, telling me that he posted new pictures. (Stressing the pictures, not a good sign) The photos were of the house he someone rents in OBX, his a Lexus, his a Harley, and a ten-point buck. Yeah, won me over with that one.

Day 3 – I had no idea that middle-aged men took so many selfies!

Day 4 – In continuing with the Harley theme, I receive an email from a guy who is a self-proclaimed man’s man. He hunts (okay), he fishes (I can live with that), he plays cards with the guys on Friday nights (nothing too unusual there), and he wants to be buried ON HIS HARLEY! Upright, gripping the bars, hair blown back…..

N-E-X-T PLEASE!

Day 5 – I am down to a manageable number of emails first thing in the morning now. The first one I open is from a man in Provo Utah. What? Did Utah run out of single women and he’s decided to import them? Next is from a man whose wife is terminally ill. She made him join so that he could find someone now, before she’s gone, so that he’ll never have to be alone. How sweet (…..in a morbid kind of way).

Day 6 – Email from a guy who says, “I see you have kids, like me. I have two boys and a girl, how about you? And if any of them are girls, do you have pictures?” Oh god…  (If I were thinking clearly, I would have sent him pictures of my cousin (the police officer’s) daughters and his direct number) HA!

Day 7 – The site must be running out of matches for me, because today they send me my usual twenty-four, but twenty of them are smokers and I clearly checked off ‘NO SMOKERS’ when I filled out my profile. Do you suppose they figure that if I haven’t run across anyone who appeals to me by now, I might change my mind??

Day 8 – I receive an email from a man who says he’s fifty-three. He includes a photo of himself and claims (claims being the operative word here) that it was taken within the last few months. I would take him for 55-60, but hey, Father Time doesn’t treat some as well as he treats others, and looks have never topped my priority list anyway. Upon closer inspection, I notice a banner in the background that reads ‘HAPPY NEW YEAR 2005’. I then notice people in party hats with the year 2005 on them. My internal calculator begins adding ‘em up. Hmm, you say you’re 53…. You look 58…. Your 2014 photograph is actually 9 ½ years old…. Liar! The only thing worse than a liar is a really, really old liar. And the only thing worse than a really, really old liar, is a really, really old, dumb liar!

N-E-X-T

Day 9 – No emails. Relief. Seriously. My visions of meeting a man with a modicum of intelligence and enough humor to make him endearing are fading faster than Cameron Diaz’s looks.

Day 12 – (I’m now disenchanted with the whole process and only check my email every few days) I receive another letter from Day 4’s Harley dude. “Hey baby, I haven’t heard from you. Did the Harley thing flake you out? Sorry. I guess I should have been more clear. If we hook up, I’d want you buried next to me on your bike when the time comes.”

Oy vey…

Needless to say, I haven’t been on a date and won’t be recommending internet dating to anyone I like. But, the experience has taught me that it’s not so bad being happily single after all.

And if the above interactions aren’t enough to make you think twice about joining one of the happily-ever sites that take monetary advantage of lonely romantics, allow me to leave you with a few honorary mentions, again, all true…

“I like women who still wear garters and stockings, the kind with the line that runs all the way up her leg, and heels. And I like it when she leaves them on during”… “My ex-wife this, my ex-wife that, you would like my ex-wife”… “Well, I was living outta my car up until bout a month ago when my brother told me I could use his trailer til he got outta prison, well it ain’t really a trailer it’s more like a camper like the kind you pull with your car when it’s running”… “My mother said if we make it to a fifth date, I can bring you home to meet her”… (from a guy 5’8” and 325 lbs.) “I’m looking for a woman who is athletic and toned because if a woman doesn’t care about her own health, she isn’t going to care about mine”… (from a guy who smokes) “No smokers please. If you’ve ever kissed a smoker you’d understand why I feel that way”… And then there’s the guy who says he doesn’t smoke, yet in every one of his (current) pictures, he’s holding a lit cigarette!

Although I’ve tried to implement humor in my adventures, that is not always the case among those who participate in online dating. We’ve all heard horror stories and I’ve included a link to one that recently appeared all over the news. I strongly suggest that anyone interested in online dating be very, very careful who they give their personal information to, including but not limited to their home address.

Woman Who Wouldn’t Accept “It’s Over”.

Anyone have a similar story? Come on, dish 😉

To all of the singles out there, HAPPY DATING!

 


A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

I hope this brings a smile to those affected by this ‘Frankenstorm’. Living in south-central Pa, I am also in the thick of things and my thoughts and prayers are with you all…

This is a reblog from my other blog….

We’ve all heard the expression, ‘A picture is worth a thousand words’ and that expression couldn’t be more true with this picture.

Giz, the mighty fisherman

Cute, right? Oh, how easily decieved you are….

This is probably my all-time favorite picture of my son, Giz – (Yes, he has a ‘real’ name, but coming from a family of nicknamers…)

He was 5 1/2 when this was taken. At first glance, the photo says: ‘Cute little boy, had fun fishing, proud of his catch’. And one would think the story ended there.

Not so.

For those of you who don’t know him, Giz has 2 sisters, Punky & Bear (I would use their real names, but I’m not sure I remember them anymore!) Punky is 4 years older than Giz and always refused to be outdone by either of her siblings. Bear is 2 years younger and is naturally easy-going. When they were young, their father and I used to take them fishing quite often. We knew where the ‘hot spots’ were so that the kids could just drop their line in from the shore and the fish would all but jump on.

Giz enjoyed fishing the most, Bear had the most patience and Punky usually preferred tormenting her brother, sister and us until we finally couldn’t take any more and headed home.

On this particular day, we arrived at ‘the hole’ and Punky threw her line in before anyone else and immediately caught a fish. Having caught the first fish and easily at that, she had newfound excitement for the activity, and cast her line in again. Again, she quickly pulled out a fish. This sparked interest in my most competitive child and she fished her heart out that day. By the end of the day, she had caught a number of fish while the rest of us caught little more than happiness for her good day.

We left the hole, stopped by their favorite playground for the customary picnic and then headed home. When we got there, the kids jumped out of the truck and began gathering their belongings (lawn chairs, poles, blankets and such). Punky’s hands were full so Giz grabbed her string of fish and his pole. Shutter bug that I am, I took the picture above.

That’s when the sky darkened, the earth rumbled and all hell broke loose!

“Why did you take a picture of HIM holding MY fish? Now everyone is going to think HE caught them all. That isn’t fair, I caught them. They’re MINE!”

She threw her things on the ground in front of her and stormed off. Okay, she was upset, she spoke her mind, we thought it would end there.

Nope.

For the rest of the day she mumbled underneath her breath, she gave him little shoves and pokes, she swore she’d never EVER go fishing again and refused to eat the catch of the day. Through tears, tantrums and threats, she was made to apologize to her brother (which went something like, hand on hip, nose in the air, sarcastic ‘sorry’) after which, she was sent to her room for the night – no TV. That was a big one with her.

Now, this story may have bored you a bit, but there is a lesson here.

I suppose that as a writer, I compute things a little differently than others might. For example, I love, love, LOVE old pictures. Even if I don’t know anyone in the photo, I will look at it for a while and by the time I’m done, I have envisioned who they are and why one person looked so sad while the others were smiling… and there must be a reason why no one is wearing a coat even though there was snow on the ground…

You get the point.

A picture is worth a thousand words, or in this case seven hundred and sixty-three. And I think that people who are ‘born to write’ have a built-in ability to embellish upon, colorize and manipulate the story behind the picture.

Learn to look past what you see. See the subliminal. Create extensions off the obvious. Paint the picture you want the world to see. Embellish, colorize and manipulate.

And now, for another round of apologies to my kids for airing their childhoods in public…

Kathy Reinhart is ‘The Lily White Liar’, author of the award-winning LILY WHITE LIES

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