“NO, DROP THE MOUSE AND MOVE AWAY FROM THE COMPUTER,” the logical me screamed.
“Oh, what’s the harm, a quick look, a couple of emails, you never know…,” the devil was so persistent.
“Stop it, stop it. I don’t need to do this.” I had promised I could have a vacation, a time to refresh, a few weeks of just putting everything in perspective, regaining my sense of humor.
The devil crooned, “But you know you love it, need it, just a little taste, just load it up in case you decide to take a peek. They’re there, He’s there, and He’s waiting for you, searching for you….”
OH MY GOD, I think I am addicted to the internet dating sites! Remember I said I was taking a break? I quit Match, got out of the fish pond and ducked those Cupid’s arrows” (ridiculous!). I was giving myself until after Labor Day, kind of a dating retreat without the vow of silence. But two weeks into this vacation I find myself wondering why things are so quiet. No winks, no emails, no bad phone conversations leading to the ubiquitous ‘snoozeathon’ date and followed by the creative writing test of making the kiss-off sound like you are just not worthy of him. I know I was exhausted by it, but now, now….I just miss it! It is beckoning me.
“OK, you asked for it,” logical me spat. “Let’s remember some of the most memorable shall we? The Munchkin, Sludge, The Screecher!
“Oh, come on, they weren’t so bad, just not ‘my type’.” I could see I needed an intervention.
“Oh yeah what about ---- The Shuffler.” …..OH!…the Shuffler….the shuffler….the shuf.
Have you ever wondered how perfectly good-looking, agile and energetic men become the feeble, bent over, hobbled guys you see in the supermarket? OK, OK, I know I’m not being kind here. I’m sure these are fine men, they’re good to children and animals and cry at sappy movies, but we’re not talking about their values or worth as people, we are talking about their physical suitability to date ME!
Ah, the Shuffler. He was separated when he first contacted me but I rebuffed him and told him to make contact when he was divorced - never expecting to hear from him again. But months later he did make contact. His divorce was final and we met at a nice “white table cloth” restaurant. He was already seated, not a great conversationalist, but looked good (at least seated) and brought a great bottle of wine. These days that is considered a home run!
I remember he was behind me all the way to my car when we left the restaurant and I didn’t see him walk that night. I just remember the peck on the lips, promise to call and him swiveling to get into his Beemer.
Date two was to a comedy club. Well, this was nice for a change. A man with multiple interests that did not include the Phillies! It was pouring rain. He picked me up - I was waiting on the porch (no need to get him wet – ahhhh, she’s so sweet!) And he, in kind, dropped me off at the club. I found a small table and before I knew it he was standing next to me – never saw him enter the room. The comedians were pretty good and after the show he suggested we stop at the disco for a night cap and a few dances.
Wow, I think I could fall for this guy….dinner, a show and now dancing. Now this was the kind of date I was expecting when I first signed up for Internet dating. Oh boy, I think I found the needle in that haystack. (OK, we are overlooking a few things, like he didn’t crack a smile during the comedy show – no laugh, not even a giggle – but said he thought the show was very funny – huh? Or that I had to fill the silence with patter as he seemed to have nothing to say – went nowhere, did nothing…how did he spend his days? Hey, I’ve met worse, much worse.)
So back to the date, I leave to go to the restroom and say I’ll meet him outside the disco which was in the same building. I get there first. Turning back toward the restrooms I saw him. He was shuffling toward me. Yes, you knew this was coming. He was shuffling like his ankles were shackled; taking tiny little steps as if he could not keep his balance without both feet on the ground. He was using his arms like a tightrope walker uses a pole to keep his balance. Yikes….and we are going dancing! He takes my arm and I help him into the club.
I probed a little to find out if he had recently sustained an injury….but alas no he said he was in fine health and, in fact, exercised everyday by walking 3 miles (well now we know what he does all day!) At the disco I did find one thing he could do really, really well – the Shuffle!
Epilogue: I asked around to those in the know – “What would make a man of 60 shuffle along like that?” Here are a few theories:
- Parkinson’s disease
- Traumatic brain injury
- Congenital malformation
- The tertiary stage of Syphilis (yeah, well look it up! It’s true!)
- Wearing a panty girdle
Intervention --- Successful – at least for now. But, see you next time.
There is a new post on my grief blog: 2-1 - click on the link to the right if you'd like to read it.
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