I've been quite enjoying reading the single files blog. The content is rather hilarious, especially the post where she left her phone in the laundry room (read 03/27/06 followed by archives 04/01/06). So I’m wondering, if a pretty young woman of her caliber has trouble in the dating world, what hope can there be for an overweight soon to be fifty year old such as myself.
(An update, miss single files rarely posts anymore as she has found herself a mate. This girl HAD a real routine of posting; now, Mr. been married before with a pile of kids has scooped her up.) Anyone hear the bells and whistles going off, with red flashing lights?
Amazingly, there is a site out there for us bigguns. Especially us buxom bigguns! Unfortunately, it’s almost a full time job trying to decipher any semblance of normalcy, in the world of too many weirdoes.
I put myself on a few dating sites for awhile. Imagine my shock when a large majority of the males responding were twenty three years old. That seemed to be the magic number. I was quite explicit about my desires, representing myself as an independent woman and proud mother. What the heck? That seemed to have no merit. I’m not talking about a handful of males. I am speaking of more than twenty young men. My naivety got the best of me when I actually talked to a few at the beginning. Thinking they’d made a horrid mistake trying to message me.
But no….I was the gullible one. After all, I was the mom that had young men who regularly stayed in my home as friends and guests of my daughter. Who I might add was very quick to remind me that these young men pursuing me were in grade three, when she was in kindergarten. As if I would ever even consider a tryst with any man three years older than my child. She seemed a bit more disgusted at their pursuit than I was. Stunned and perplexed at why a young man would consider a woman close to fifty was more how I felt. I even wondered if this went on regularly, or if it was some kind of fad.
Here I am forty nine years old, been out of the dating world for almost thirty five years. What do I know about dating? I just thought it would be nice to have a partner by my side for my fiftieth birthday. Not realizing the ordeal and energy it would take to weed through the men. I gave it an honest effort.
I talked to more than a few males, who after a few very nice conversations, insisted on knowing my breast size. One asked me to measure my areolas. Yes, he really did, this is no jest. More than a few wanted ME to be a DOMINATRIX……..So out of my domain, this concept. Being the non violent advocate that I am, having never even spanked my child, I hardly wanted to bring that, into the bedroom, thank you very much.
One young male, who I might add worked in a dollar store, and had a foot fetish, told me I was pritty……yes pritty….not pretty.....pritty. Thank- you but click, yes…. he was gone by the click of my mouse.
Another male, a widower, I talked to for a few months, before finding out he had no teeth and had no intention of getting any!
One airplane mechanic, another widower, professed to be a good listener. When we spoke on the phone, ( I called him and blocked my number) he never asked me one question about myself and talked incessantly. He was annoyed that I was busy when he wanted to take me out..
A huge majority of the men I talked to are so crass about sex. There is no mystery…..they blatantly ask your size, before even checking to see if there’s any camaraderie.
Oh, my, god, I contacted my so called perfect match ( at his insistence) from one site,....within 15 minutes of talking with him..... I was drained…..the Jewish widower, yes another needy widower…. spoke in a staccato allegro…..with an accent….if you know music you will understand….that’s the only way I could describe him….. he managed to reprimand me, demanded to know my size, very aware that I was a BBW…..and asked me probably 10 times for my landline phone number…..I kept saying no…..not until I felt safe to give it to him…..I have not given my home number to any men, as of yet. I am SO glad… I set my boundaries with him… he repeatedly asked me what I have to lose, he rambled on so fast I barely understood him. What have I got to lose?…..well, I'll tell you….my sanity if I was with a guy like that. I could write a book on these people. They all claim to be nice guys, all say they’re honest. Seriously, if you are nice…..it will become apparent fairly quickly, and you certainly won’t ask a woman ignorant questions so early in the game. If you’re honest….well, usually you just are……you don’t boast about it. I never even talk about honesty….it’s not in my realm…….because I surround myself with honest people, so it’s never an issue.
The widower asked me after only a few minutes what I thought of him. I mentioned that he was a bit aggressive. We continued to talk, after offending me and demanding things from me, he eventually sensed my disdain and asked if I wanted him to rip up my cell phone number. He was shocked when I said yes….then brazenly asked why.
I replied honestly, telling him we weren’t on the same page, because he was just too demanding and aggressive for my liking. I hung up and exhaled!
After almost five months, of weeding though many profiles, I have two males from the dating sites that I talk to online, and one married guy I talk to through my scrabble site. Only one man is local. The common thread.........they all stimulate me intellectually.
Immediately after I wrote this piece, I took myself permanently off all the sites and have contentedly decided to go it alone. I continued to speak to one male, who I suspect is a very intelligent functioning alcoholic. We met, I felt no chemistry at all, we remained online friends for quite sometime. He had a girlfriend for a short time, she dumped him. Then he started to pursue me with fervor, it turned me off. Something inside said danger, let it go. He is back online looking for the woman who broke his heart. Only now his profile is clearly deceitful, he’s posted a different job, a different birth date, and denies having kids. I think to myself, what else is he lying about?
The scrabble guy, who was a real charmer at first, also a disappointment, turned out to be real Mr. grumpy pants. Every time I won a few games in a row, he would get in a huff. His charm wore down. He started to repeat his schmoozing lines with me…..it wasn’t long before I had his modus operands. This rather prominent male, living in the United States, leads an obvious double life, in the highest echelons. I managed to get through my birthday very gratefully alone. And for the last six month I have been the happy lone blogger instead!