My neighbor periodically asks me whether I’m dating. No, I tell her. Are you kidding? No.
Which is mostly true. But every couple of months, I hop on a dating app just because. After a week or so and a few disconcerting exchanges, I delete everything and go back to reminding myself that my dog loves me unconditionally and that’s enough.
It’s rough out there, y’all. Slim pickins. I am looking for my Keanu Reeves in a land full of Mitch McConnells. I declined to ‘like’ the guy who said he could lick his own eyebrows. One man asked me if he could come clean my house. Are you trying to drum up business, I asked. LOL no haha I’m a submissive and I like when women order me to do stuff. Ew. I mean, would I have to be there? I wished him good luck.
I thought I had clicked with a man who looked great on paper, and we texted for a few days before agreeing to meet for a drink. He had an obsessive hatred of Monsanto, which was weird, but I hate Monsanto, too, so I went with it. Two days before the date, he asked if he could call me on the phone, and I agreed. We talked for 30 minutes, or I should say I listened for 30 minutes, and I couldn’t fucking stand him. He was meanly sarcastic, and argumentative.
He texted before the date I was trying to cancel:
Him: I feel like I made a mistake calling the other night.
Me: Possibly? I feel like we didn’t click.
Him: I felt that way too. I’m blaming the the six beers I had prior to calling.
Me: (shocked face emoji)
Him: I run into people very rarely that are of similar mind. I want to meet you.
Me: We could meet. But listen, I don’t drink a lot. And I can’t hang out with people who do. No judgement….It’s just not where I’m at in my life right now.
Him: I’m not a drunk. Not near it.
Him: We can or can’t. My stance is clear. Your tone is dismissive.
How cute! We hadn’t even met and we were having our first argument!
Me: OK, I’m sorry you feel that way. I wish you the best of luck with everything. Maybe our paths will cross one day.
Delete. Delete. Delete. DELETE. I press delete a lot.
What do I want in a man? I don’t know. I don’t even know if I want a man at all, at least not full-time. There are things I don’t miss. I don’t miss dirty socks and underwear and workout clothes and stray toenails on the bathroom floor. I don’t miss sharing a bathroom. What do men even do in the bathroom for so long? I used to spend long periods of time in there when my kids were young, just to get away from them. But now? I’m an in-and-out girl. I don’t feel like bodily functions should be opportunities for lingering. It’s gross. Men should have their own bathrooms and probably stock them with drinks to stay hydrated.
Lots of married women in my life tell me that if they were to suddenly find themselves single, they’d just stay that way. I used to think that, too. Honestly, I do want to stay single.
But I underestimated the physical need for touch. My occasional therapist tells me that when I can’t come by physical touch organically, I should purchase it in the form of a massage, which I’ve done. It helps. But it’s not the same.
I miss intimacy. I miss making out. I think I miss sex, although it’s been so long now I can’t be certain. I definitely miss being wrapped in someone’s arms.
My friend has a vacation boyfriend. She sees him infrequently, and they have a great time together for a couple of weeks. Then she goes back to her single life with no obligations, no worries about what to cook for dinner, no one leaving huge tubs of Metamucil sitting out on the counter. That’s a thought for me. I hear Boulder, Colorado has a very favorable men-to-women ratio. If I could find a Boulder boyfriend, I’d have an awesome place to visit and practically an entire country between me and commitment. That would be ideal, because I can’t see myself getting remarried. I’ve jumped out of that plane, and the landing hurt. I don’t need to do it again.
Katherine Hepburn said, “Sometimes I wonder if men and women really suit each other. Perhaps they should live next door and just visit now and then.”
It’s a thought.
Coming Soon: The Fantasy Man, Part II – Job Description