Sex and the 60 - The High Talker

In love it is essential to have a confidant, a teacher, a coach. Someone wise, someone experienced who can bring her vast knowledge from years of disturbing encounters to the task of guiding you through the dating game. My Maharishi Mahesh Yogi is --- well I cannot use her real name here so let's call her --- Carrie.

Carrie and I (let's call me Samantha) spent our wanton youth in bars and clubs throughout New York City. She was there when I met Kevin and there when I met Kevin once again. She was even my maid of honor when Kevin threw me and I sought the arms of a nice Jewish boy (and he was) and marriage number one. Carrie studied online dating like a cookbook. She could give you chapter and verse about how to seek out, filter out, eke out and cross out possible prospects and losers. She tried a few on, picking "nice" guys who could buy her cupcakes, lunches and dinners and whose hearts she would wrench out of their chests with a firm - thank you and good-bye!

Now on this particular day, I had an internet encounter with my first prospect. I was thrilled, excited, yet frightened --- I hadn't shaved my legs since Kevin died!!! Did that matter? Could he see? But he was charming, handsome even, age appropriate and he was interested in ME. I was rushing down the hill -- through with dating, right into the safe and strong arms of a new lover -- and I couldn't believe my luck. I'd met him in the first week online. Wow this online dating thing is great.

Now, Carrie had told me -- first, email a bit, but not too long, as you need to move on to the phone call to determine if they were not just literate but entertaining too. Then, if that works a short date in which you determined if they are repeat material. Yes, this was the correct protocol - the method, the proper procedure to assure a successful progression from picture and profile to a deep meaningful relationship.

But I was so excited, so anxious, I forgot the order of things and moved from email to agreeing to the date. OMG, I had forgotten the phone call. Oh, so what I said. He seemed nice, was interested, how boring could he be if he liked me? "Samantha, you fool", Carrie chided, "Now you've gone and done it". "What will happen if he has a ghost writer, writing his witty and intriguing emails?" "You may have to spend an hour, filling the silence with chatter as he stares blankly at you." But I was determined. I couldn't go back now. It was done.

I picked my clothes carefully, even spritz my make-up with Evian water to set it and used my best perfume. After all this would be the first of many dates with my new man. I wanted him to remember this moment forever. I drove to the restaurant he selected --- Fridays!!! What? Fridays? Ok, it's a first date. Perhaps he is saving that secret little bistro he knows for when he is sure we are a match. It doesn't pay to peak too soon.

And then he was there. I saw him striding toward me. He looked exactly like his picture. Handsome, well dressed, leaving his Lexus parked in the shade. He was tall. I stood and he took my hand and said...Well he didn't actually say anything. What came out of his mouth was a high pitched shriek that pierced my eardrums and stopped the wait staff in their tracks. The entire restaurant turned in our direction. It was like chalk on a blackboard, many octaves above normal; similar to the voice of one who breathed helium, but more grating. He smiled a dazzling white tooth smile.

Carrie was right, I talked incessantly that afternoon -- I gave him no opportunity to get a word in. The few times he did speak a seeing-eye dog began to howl and small children clasp their hands over their ears and began to cry.

And so I ended it quickly, slugged down my drink, checked my watch and bolted. As I left, he shrieked that he found me very attractive, and would give me a call. Over my shoulder I pleaded...no, email me, please email me!

See you next time.