Last night I headed downtown to ‘Jen’s and Friend’s’ to celebrate my newly-divorced girlfriend’s ‘Independence Day’. A group of about a dozen women and one token male
were seated outside enjoying the unseasonably cool weather. Our tables were laden with every type of martini know to man, as that is the specialty of this place. I’m particularly fond of their Snickers martinis. A little too fond. Ok. My affair with their Snickers martinis is wholly inappropriate but more long-lived than my past two boyfriends. In fact, if it came with two AA batteries and a monkey wrench…
Ahem…anyway, my newly divorced friend remarked that she is just really dreading the thought of dating again. I and another woman, an attractive blond, named Mindy, nodded our heads way too vigorously.
Mindy to me: “Have you tried online dating?”
Me: “Have I? Oh yeah! I’ve got a blog that you should definitely read.”
Mindy: “Really? Which dating sites have you tried?
Me: “Pretty much all of them.”
Mindy: “Well, I tried Match.com.”
Me: “How’d that go?”
Mindy: “Well, it’s an awful lot of writing you have to do just to get to a date. A date that probably wasn’t even worth shaving my legs for anyway.”
Me: “Exactly. It’s like a full-time job with no paycheck at the end.” (To clarify for my male readers, I’m not talking about that kind of paycheck…read my dating rules here.)
Before my current boyfriend and I started to get to know each other, I had already run out of steam in the dating game. I had been out on beaucoodles of dates, and with each passing one, my enthusiasm waned. A pattern began to emerge. Very few of the men I dated had their act together. Some were still reeling from a divorce, most were unsteady financially or in their careers–and yet, I would have to say, most of them expected perfection from their dates. I could safely say that most of the men I have dated expected to catch a ’10′ when they were about a ’5′ or ’6′ at best. (And, not only physical perfection are they seeking; many men, being unsteady financially themselves, are seeking fiscal soundness, as well.)
Yes, it would seem that many, if not most, men are shallow. And to be fair, so are many women. From what I’ve read on dating websites such as e-Harmony, most men are seeking an arm ornament and most women are seeking financial security. Therein lies the rub. Most people that have been through a divorce go through at least a period of financial insecurity and, quite frankly, most people are not nearly as attractive as they think they are or once were. It seems to me that men in particular suffer from what I call the “High School Reunion Syndrome”. You know, that interesting phenomena that occurs when you go to your 25th high school reunion and you look around the room and say to yourself, “What are all these old people doing here?” I mean, other people are the only ones who age, right?
Not having a realistic view of oneself can lead one to fish in the wrong waters. I can’t tell you how shocked I was when a male friend of mine asked me who the young girl was with my friend when we happened to bump into them. Seriously?!!! Dude, she’s your daughter’s age. I was amazed that he couldn’t tell that. So much for seeking “inner qualities.” This, I told him, is exactly why I had already decided I was done with the dating game, long before my new beau came into the picture. It’s disheartening to see all of my education, my character, and the financial security that I have worked so hard to achieve be challenged by a pretty young face or a nice ‘rack’.
“Bitter, table for one, please. No, scratch that, I think there are enough of us to fill up this entire restaurant.”
My daughter told me about Jen’s and friends. Are there really people “our” age there? I am afraid, since she also told about the place on top of the hotel that turned out to be not for us.
If you think the Rooftop at the Bohemian is ‘not for us’, you would have definitely been uncomfortable at the Mercury Lounge, which is where the group went next. I headed home. Not my cup o’ tea, but then I was never a barfly past the age of 22–and then it was all about the dancing. If there wasn’t dancing, count me out! I’m still the same. That’s why I tried online dating in the first place. I’d rather have a root canal than endure the bar scene. Well, I suppose online dating is more like getting your teeth cleaned–not terribly unpleasant twice a year. The way I figure it, I’m good for the next decade. Haha. Oh wait. It doesn’t work that way?