My subjects have been pretty serious lately. With good reason. There are a lot of serious things going on in the world and a lot of shifts happening. Things are scary. But the good in people is showing up too.
I’m going to lighten things up with a little humor this week. It doesn’t mean that I’m forgetting about all the big things, just giving my brain a little break.
As many of you know, I’ve been working on a memoir. It’s actually a serious work that is both therapeutic and cathartic for me. It chronicles my 24 years in Colorado and all the wonderful and terrible things that happened during that time.
I’ve also been playing around with a lighter, satirical book. It’s about dating at mid-life and all the comedy that it brings. I thought I’d share a few excerpts.
Hummus Guy
“Kill me now,” I texted my bestie. Fuck. I knew I didn’t want to go on this date. We had had some lively texting, but I knew from the first phone call that it was going nowhere.
“What’s your favorite food?” he had asked. Ok, cool, I like a foodie, I thought. “A toss up between sushi and lobster,” I say, wondering if thats just so predictable. “You?”
“Yeah. I travel around to try the best hummus.”
Potential to be cool? Maybe.
“So, have you made/had some exotic hummuses? Edamame, sweet pea?”
“Huh?” Can you hear a blank stare?
Nope. Just chick pea. So much for thinking outside the box.  I was less enthused about the upcoming date.
Bestie encourages me to go. “People are different in different mediums. You found his texts engaging enough, that you were willing to go to a phone conversation, right? So give it a chance. Go in with no expectations.”
I go.
He shows up with a long-stemmed chocolate rose with a plastic stem, and proceeds to hit me in the boob with it. Awesome.
In the first 5 minutes, the words, church, christian and God are mentioned multiple times. Not by me.
He’s never done any drugs. (That’s two in a row. Whats that about? Is that a Wisconsin thing?)
So, I decide to fuck with him. Just to entertain myself. Seems like a better choice than slamming 3 or 4 glasses of wine.
He: “I’ve never done any drugs in my life.”
Me: “I’ve done all of them.”
He: Silence. Looks scandalized.
Me: “Well, not all of them. I’ve never done heroin or crystal meth. I’m not an idiot.”
He: “What drugs have you done?”
Me: “Oh, the usual. Pot, coke, acid, mushrooms, ecstasy.”
He: Still looking scandalized, changes the subject.
On Religion –
Me: “I’ve noticed you mentioned Christian and Christian values several times in our 30 minutes of conversation….”
He: “Well, I read your profile; you did say that you’re Christian, right?”
Me: “No.”
He: “You’re an atheist?” Why do Christians always think there are two choices – Christian and atheist?
Oh, the answers I could have given…
        “I’m a Hindu Buddhist Jew.”
        “No, but I’m spiritual as fuck.”
But I held my tongue.
We got into the what’s important to you in a relationship discussion.
I say – sense of humor, intellectual stimulation and sex.
He looks like he’s about to die. Cannot believe I said that. But it turns him on. He thinks I’m the most awesome woman he’s ever met.
I’m quite sure I am.
He says that he is mostly interested in the heart and the mind and that he can deal with mediocre/minimal sex. I say that I cannot.
I finish my wine, thank him and bolt.
There have been quite a few lame connections made. Some good ones too. I’ve made some very good friends through Bumble & Tinder. But online dating exhausts me like shopping at TJ Maxx. You’ve got to rifle through a bunch of crap to find a shirt that you like. And even if you like it on the rack, there’s no guarantee it’ll be good fit.
There was Dr. Sandwich, the dentist who always wanted to go to Subway and “walk around.” Sorry, but I prefer to sit down while I eat. There was the sweet widower who cried about his wife’s death in a motorcycle accident. I felt for him, but that’s no way to start a relationship. There was the sex therapist. I think he’s actually a good guy, but I couldn’t get past his profession. Most recently was the Repo Man. When I discovered that he misled me about his political leanings, I politely declined his invitation for a date. To which his response was to call me fat.
There were the red-flag guys. Guys who I actually liked, and thus chose to ignore the red flags waving right in my face. Surprisingly, the two I’m thinking of were both kind of deadbeat dads. Not in the traditional sense; I believe they financially supported their kids, but either weren’t raising their own kids at all, or put their own needs above their kids. So, I’ve logged that bit of data in my brain. Bad dad = Bad date.
The working title of the book is No Wonder You’re Single – Adventures in Dating at Midlife. And though I have plenty of funny dating stories, I don’t (and hopefully will never) have enough stories to fill a book. I’ve got some good stories from other single friends, both male and female, that will be included. If you’ve got a story, please reach out. The funnier and more awkward, the better. Names will all be changed.
Have a great week! Stay Strong, stay grounded. Laugh a bunch.