What'd I ever do to Neil Clark Warren? The perils of online dating.
CHERISHING my new BLUE RIBBON - THANK YOU!!! :))|
What'd I ever do to Neil Clark Warren? Online dating is way too sterile and scary. I miss the chemistry, the spontaneity. I miss my "G"male. And I remember our first kiss. No inert web profile can compete with electricity. I need the sizzle. ZAP me - please!
|Welcome to my virgin blog of 994 words (just so you can plan, and I can brag about finally locating that info after sending 18 emails to Support that began: "Sorry to be so dense again but . . .")
Anyway . . .
Thanks to Facebook last week, I was surprised to get hot but not-so-bothered by a contact from a long lost love dating back 44 years. A once-14-year-old puppy love actually. I'll call him "G".
"G" reignited feelings I thought were dead long ago - both for men and for the act of writing. Thus, this blog:
Reliving our first kiss, online, sent my emotions skyrocketing. WHERE THE HECK DID THAT COME FROM?????!!!!!
And that was just the start.
Soon, instead of focusing in silence on my officework each day, I was singing and blasting oldies on my iPod. My productivity suffered but my spirit improved. To me, it was well worth the trade-off. To my boss ..... not so much.
Like commentators at a golf tourney, peers whispered remarks in hushed tones about my startling metamorphosis. Although I had to agree with them, I explained how my life as a recluse had always been underrated. It really was so ultra efficient: very time-saving and budget-friendly. Very Obama.
But that new-found euphoria . . . what an elixir. I needed another fix, and fast!
Problem was that I hadn't heard from "G" for three days, so I assumed he had dumped me after the initial rush. Now what to do with the emotional vacuum?
"Quite a crater," quipped a cohort. "How about e-dating?"
Hmmmm . . . online ogling. There's a thought. And I don't even have to shave my legs! (Just a one-time mega-pluck of my chin and upper lip for the photo. I can handle that.)
Sounded remote enough for me to safely venture forth. After all, as a confirmed hermitess, I didn't really want to make true human contact. It was just the email volley I craved. You know - cyber foreplay? Email as an aphrodisiac. By gum, that must be the ticket!
. . . or not . . .
What a disappointment.
Keep in mind that I'm a Jewish gal living in the gentile part of Florida, so my online searches generated more bubbas than boobalas. Lots of good ol' boys who like to fish and shoot things. Oy!
Only thing we had in common was that I'd always been a catch-and-release type of dater.
And I'm still trying to figure out why a guy in Mumbai wrote to me. Seriously. Is there a Mumbai in Arkansas I don't know about or what?
So here's the thing:
I did garner some interest from a few guys with the word "Bagel"-something in their handle/ID.
Won't go into their never-vescent repartee, but that's when it hit me: the cold detachment and sterility. What say you about that, Mr. NCW?
Where is the all-important chemistry?????
I'm not just looking for an e-lationship.
I'm looking for an elation-ship.
Seems perfectly logical to learn about someone first and meet them later, but I contend it's biologically unnatural. And downright boring to boot.
Speaking of boots: I decided to shop for a chat-mate like I was at Bergdorf's trying on shoes. But I couldn't find a sole/soul. (Sorry 'bout that)
One cyber-suitor went by the online name of FLIP89. So I asked him: Is Flip your name. . .or do you just get mad a lot?
Never heard from him again.
And to every adventurous cowboy, mountain climber, whitewater rafter, bungee jumper, hang glider, scuba and/or sky diver, I copied and pasted my standard reply:
At age 58, odds are against my doing any of the above unless I make the next cast of Survivor. Highly unlikely.
No response from them either.
For some reason, I also attracted the interest of several 20-year-olds to whom I replied: "Does your mother know you're writing this to me????"
Again no replies. Course it was probably a school night...
Anyway, I finally got up the courage to write back to one of the more normal gents only 8 years my junior.
It felt like poking a rattlesnake. And guess what happened . . . THE SNAKE BIT BACK!!!!
The nerve of him to suggest we meet in person! I just wanted to have some fun writing back and forth for a while. Maybe in a year or two we could talk on the phone or something.
Holy crap!!! There's real humanity on the other end of this thing!
Too much for me to handle, so I immediately deactivated my e-membership. Done and done!
As a student of the stock market, I long ago learned how to buy on the rumor and sell on the news. Just practicing what has been preached.
Please understand: I don't even know if all my parts work anymore.
Although I have recently seen certain signs of life (tip o' the hat to "G") - I haven't kissed a man in over a decade! And that was my ex-spouse, so you know I was faking EVERYTHING at that point.
In short, real live contact with the male species is a frightening specter for me.
Maybe I just need to take my aging body out dancing. Yeah, maybe that's it. I'm really into music now and I love dancing! Can always go home as alone as I arrived so no risk taken, no harm done.
Wonder if they have an Early Bird dance club for seniors? I guess getting carded there would be more about AARP than a driver's license. Especially since some of us no longer have the latter. (Damn kids looking out for us.)
Oh, wait . . . did I say dancing? It's really more like head-bobbing and knee bouncing. You get the picture, right? Imagine Elaine gyrating on Seinfeld . . . NOW you got it.
Sheesh . . . this is really quite exhausting.
Think I'm just gonna crawl back into my 14-year-old brain, fantasize about that special kiss, and call it a day.
Tomorrow, it's back to my regularly scheduled life already in progress. And smiling a-a-a-all the way!