By: Ann Brown
If Robin ever leaves me, I am going to have to rely on you to get me a date because I’ve been kicked off the online dating sites. And, frankly, it isn’t going to be easy to pimp me out. I’ve been letting myself go for the past, oh, fifty-five years or so. Recently, I thought I’d better get to work on my personality since, clearly, the wiles are running thin but, God, working on my personality is so much….well, work. Plus, my flaws define me. Who am I, if not this basket case wrapped in a couple of spare tires inside a smart-ass remark?
I’ve buried the lead, however, haven’t I? What am I, happily married for almost thirty years, doing trolling online dating sites?
I went online to pimp out my 85 year old mom. I went to JDates, the Jewish online dating site. And got my ass flagged. It’s such horseshit, really. I merely responded to the gentleman who listed his age as “in my mid- 70’s”, and under the category of the women he is interested in meeting, he wrote, “beautiful, active women between 50 and 64”.
I checked out your photo, sir. First of all, you are not in your 70’s unless there is such an age as seventy-nineteen or maybe you spent the past twenty years lying in a vat of cocoa butter on the surface of the sun. And, dude, you are wearing Velcro sneakers so I guess your activity level does not include tying shoelaces. Is that why you want an active woman? Be honest, asshole. Say, “I want a woman who can bend down and reach my feet.” That’s what I’d put in my ad: I am looking for an intelligent, attractive, financially stable man to do a monthly examination of the weird mole between my second and third toe because I cannot hold the position long enough to do it myself without pulling a groin muscle and falling over.
I really hate liars.
So I felt it was my duty to contact this guy directly. Just to share my feelings with him and hopefully, get him back on track, see the light, date women his own age, you know, as a sort of public service. I am all about public service.
Well, I might have used some offensive language in my email. And I might have insulted the guy. I may have Google’d him, made a few phone calls to his home and, oh, I don’t know, egg’ed his Buick Electra and threatened his life; it’s not important. The important thing is that suddenly I am persona non grata to the Jewish online dating world. Excommunicated.
This makes me nervous because someday Robin might just decide I am too much work and split. I see him looking at me sometimes, in that inscrutable way he has. And then he lets out an almost imperceptible moan and rubs his temples in circles for a few seconds. The other day I swear I heard him whisper, “God, just leave already” when I had told him – for the third time – that I was going to Safeway to get the good Braeburn apples I like. Plus, his blood pressure is already kinda high and he’s no spring chicken. Things can happen. I’m just saying.
So one of you is going to have to find me a new man if I find myself alone in the next, oh, forty years.
For your files: I am 55, I enjoy taking walks in the park with my dog, ironing, making excuses to get out of shit I don’t want to do, a glass of water with lemon after meals, Caller ID, revisionist personal history and fine wine.
And I am interested in meeting men between the ages of 19-28.