So Many Aging Frogs, So Few Gently Worn Princes

As many other Lady Baby Boomers are doing these days, I joined a senior dating Internet service to look for a nice older gentleman to spend time with doing stuff like watching fireworks on the Fourth of July or going to a play or any of those things I haven’t been doing by myself since I became a widow four years ago. Most of my wonderful girl friends are married or with someone or sitting in a rocking chair getting old.

Gathering up my confident courage I wrote a pithy profile and posted my most flattering photo on the site. BAM! I immediately got lots of responses, mostly from seemingly nice men over 60. I replied to some of them and met several of them for coffee or lunch. One of the first "dates" I had really liked me - so much so that he made plans for me to spend weekends at his brand new double wide trailer on a lake in a town 120 miles away, assuring me that I could bring both of my rescue dogs with me. We would sit in front of the fire (who knew trailers have fireplaces), listen to country jazz (what ever that is?) and drink muscadine wine from north Georgia. He drove me crazy with his persistence, so I quit answering the phone when his number came up and didn’t respond to his e-mails. It took awhile, but he finally gave up.

Next I met a rather portly guy who didn’t look like his photograph. He claimed the picture was 10 years old, but the only one he had. We went to a Greek restaurant. The only part of our conversation that didn’t involve his cat or his mother (with whom he lived) was his often repeated "joke" (while reading the menu, when the food arrived, when the check arrived): "It’s all Greek to me!"

Then there was the very nice 75 year old fellow who just couldn’t seem to keep his toupee on straight. Or the cutie pie who explained that he always carried a gun under his jacket – just in case. He never explained in case of what! Or the man who insisted on knowing how much money I had. Or - never mind - you get the drift.

Good grief! Where is that tall, thin, silver-haired prince? Plundering through what seemed like endless profiles I finally found him! We met for lunch at a diner in the posh part of town. He was good looking, educated and could actually engage in interesting conversation. We swapped business cards and he hugged me before I got in my car. This is great, I thought. Well, maybe not. Just five minutes later my cell phone rang. It was Mr. Perfect informing me that he didn’t think I was his type. Gee, thanks!

I actually met a couple of other seemingly possible candidates, but they also informed me after we met that either they were going back to their wife or would stick the woman they were dating or just didn’t “get” me.

Then I struck gold. It may not sound likely, but he has become a fabulous friend. And he has met many very nice ladies, he tells me, and loves having women friends for the first time in his life. He wanted to be my friend? Yeah, right.

As it turned out, he has become my friend. We frequently meet for breakfast at Waffle House (his favorite morning spot) and he has escorted me to two professional evening events so I didn’t have to go alone and he was able to network for his consulting business. It’s a great balance for now. Who knows, maybe he’ll dump the girlfriend and the wife.