I text one of my brothers to get his new address:
Monday, July 26, 2010
"Nothing defines humans better than their willingness to do irrational things in the pursuit of phenomenally unlikely payoffs. This is the principle behind lotteries, dating, and religion." ~Scott Adams
I've been told I have tunnel vision. Once I make a decision, nothing is going to steer me off-course. So once the decision was made to be single again, I chose to completely uproot my life and my family and move from our little farming town of Manchester, Tennessee back to my hometown in Cleveland, Ohio. I am leaving a job that I love and have worked for seventeen years. I get to find new schools, new doctors, a house and a new career. Not to mention dating. Me, dating again? Really? I've only had 2 relationships in the last 23 years. And now I'm back in the dating pool. With 3 children. At 40 (almost). Ugh! I get to deal with the cheesy pick-up lines. The guys with the slicked back hair and the gold chains. Wondering which ones are married and which ones are just in it for the sex. Wading through a pool that gets much smaller at my age to find Mr. Right. Or at least Mr. OK. So it's a daunting proposition. One that I'm sure I will make my own share of mistakes. But an adventure I'm willing to take because I know it will be worth it in the end. Or at least I thought so...
I text one of my brothers to get his new address:
Me: "So what's your address now?"
Brian: "Who wants to know?"
Me: "It's just for me. I'm trying to get my bearings since I'm moving back up to Cleveland."
Brian: "No seriously, who is this?"
Me: "I guess this isn't Brian?"
Now I get a phone call. The deep voice on the other end says "No, this isn't Brian." I squeak out a mortified "I'm sorry." Sent another text apologizing and figured that was it.
No, that's not how my life goes. It's never that simple. There's always a punchline. Trust me. I am constant entertainment to those who love to laugh at (with) me. So I get a text message the next morning: "Have you ever considered having an affair with an older man?" For normal people, warning bells would be going off, right? Affair, older, etc. My friend grabs my phone and texts back "So just how old do you think I am?" He says he's going to call me when he gets back from the gym. Hmmm. Potential maybe? Of course, it's Friday and he's going to the gym and not to work. Maybe he works second shift. Maybe he's independently wealthy. And he's working out so that has to be a good sign, right?
I get the phone call. He thinks I am in my 20's. I laugh. I mean, it's been a few years since I've seen 20. I mean, if I were still in my 20's would I be texting a complete stranger? I say "No, I'm 39." He says "That's OK because I am 60." Alright. I know I'm getting older. But 60? Images flash through my head. Sean Connery. Pierce Bronson. My dad. Ugh! 60 is not good. And oh, btw, it gets worse...
So this strange guy has my phone number and knows I'm moving back to Cleveland. The inner detective in me starts investigating. Google is my friend. One of the best. So onto a reverse number lookup. I find him right away. There he is. Phone number. Home address. Google maps street view. He lives in an apartment complex. Oh no. I think it's an elderly assisted location. And he's not 60. He's 74. And married. With a son 11 years older than me. Plays piano at the senior citizens center. My "dream" guy is 10 years older than my dad. And lied to me about his age. I know you're laughing now. Really laughing. On the floor, LMAO. Good. Because that's what I was doing in between the tears and the realization that this isn't exactly going so well for me.
For the rest of the day my "friends" (yes I really love you) go into detail on how great it would be to date an older man. I mean, think of how experienced he is. He probably has a lifetime prescription for Viagra. Just think of what happens to the male anatomy when they get older. My family just want to know if he's rich. Yeah, that's the important stuff. Not that he's married or 74! And then I realize his wife might find out about me. Kristina says she will probably chase me with her cane yelling "Leave my husband alone! We've been through two World Wars and the Great Depression together!"
It can't get much worse than that. Again, do I really believe that when I say it? When I told mom about this she says "Well, your Uncle Tommy is single. And has a house. You did used to have a crush on him." Note: Uncle Tommy is my stepfather's brother, so not blood-related. But still, he's been my uncle since I was 12. And did my mom just try to set me up with a relative? Really?
I guess I am going to have to lay down some ground rules for those who care so much for me as to try to set me up with someone:
1. Plus or minus 5 years. Period. That's 34-44 for those of you not so good at math. I'm not dating an older man again - 13 or 35 years. And I don't want to have to train him either, so the 27-year-olds are out too.
2. Single. Not married. Not sort of divorced. Unattached and well over the ex. If he still mentions her name with googly eyes or finishes it with "the f'n beoch" he's out too.
3. (This one's for my mom. Normally this wouldn't even be a question. But it is my mom...) He cannot be related. Not by marriage. Or a cousin 5 times removed. No matter how cute, single, rich or any other star qualities he may possess. I just can't do it. It would really screw up the family tree and I don't want to have to figure out how to enter that into my database.
I'll probably add more later. But why put too many constraints on it? That would take all the fun out of it and I wouldn't have something to blog about later!
And so goes dating for me so far. Batting 1000. I never was very good at sports. Apparently I am equally as clumsy at dating. And I have yet to actually be out on a date. I didn't even get a dinner out of it. Oh well. Setting my goals a little bit higher the next time. And maybe get a lottery ticket or two. I might have better luck...