This time, I've gotten an attitude about Old Farts who only want to date Slender and/or Athletic & Toned women. I fully understand that we all have preferences - I just think that it's rude to advertise our prejudices in a forum like Match which stirs up everyone's insecurities in the first place. Further, I fail to see what makes these arrogant bastards the prizes they apparently think they are.
It's wrong of me to jump to the conclusion that they are arrogant bastards. Perhaps they are just stupid. Either way, it's time for me to get off Match again. Fortunately, I had the benefit of my earlier experience and recognized that there was no reason to pony up for more than three months since we all knew I'd be stomping off in a Match Dot Com Huff after 60 days. Yesterday, I updated my profile so that the conclusion said:
RE: Body TypeAfter a couple of hours, I got embarrassed and hid the profile. Now I revised it so that it's not so harsh because (1) there are some nice fellows on Match who don't deserve to be hit with my bullshit even if they are so dull and cliche-driven that I won't talk to them, and (2) I'm corresponding with two men now and they don't need to see exactly how bitchy I can get at this juncture. At the moment, I'm thinking my profile will not see another dawn on Match dot com.
In the past, when I've been on Match, I've gotten an attitude about men who are 55-ish but whose search parameters state they are not looking to date women who are over 50. I have come to see that age range is a lot like height, and many woman are not interested in dating short men which give guys who are under 5'7" an attitude too. Again, we all have our preferences and I suppose it's best to state them clearly in the beginning. To that end, when someone is only interested in dating Slender and/or Athletic and Toned women, I'm not interested in dating him. It's not like I'm a barking lard-ass over here, and when I see that someone only wants a thin woman, I figure they probably aren't interested in a smart one either - especially when he's posted a picture of himself in a flashy Viagra-mobile. Or at the wheel of a boat like he's going to sail up to the 79th Street Boat basin to pick up a 32 year-old date who he fully believes is out with his bald self without regard for his money. When I see that stuff on Match I begin to despair that there's nobody out there who I'll like better than BOB, the Battery Operated Boyfriend. My membership expires in a couple of weeks, and me and BOB are doing fine. He's not costing me money or sneering at my stretch marks - and he's certainly not married and looking for a salacious internet flirtation or some action on the side. I'm sure that there are plenty of dumb, superficial women on Match looking for walks on the beach with her soul mate the meal ticket who lives up to her lifelong romantic delusions. Maybe those broads will hook up with Mr. Viagra and everyone will be happy. I'll be sparking up a fat one over at Menopausal Stoners, making plans to storm the Bastille with my radical hippie buddies, if anyone is interested.
My dear friend and alleged daughter, Gigi the Pole Dancing Quadroon, suspects that I'm so bummed out about Abilene Steve that I'm hiding myself under the covers again. I'll admit that his disappearance has hurt. I really did like him a lot and was hopeful. If he turns up again, I'll be glad to see him. So glad that I'll be sure to take some Simethicone before the date so I won't worry about Farting. There's a bit of Reality about dating in the AARP zone.
Abilene Steve said that he had been intimidated about meeting me because I was so talented and filled with horse power. Nobody ever said anything like that to me before. At first, I thought it was High Time that a man thought of me like that, but now, I'm pretty sure that it's part of what makes me ultimately Undatable. It's one of life's little ironies since the super in my new building felt compelled to tell me that I should be married. I can only conclude that he took the liberty because when my father left for Texas, he shook Jacob the Super's hand and told him that he was in charge. Jacob is a handsome Mexican man about my age and height who has just enough English to tell me I ought to be married.
I have a lingering feeling that most men come to the same conclusion about me and marriage. You don't have to be around me long to know I am a proverbial Nice Girl, although anyone who enters the Triciasphere will see that I'm a nice girl in the same mold as Jacy Farrow in Last Picture Show
As I recall, Jacy wound up divorced in a big house in Dallas, and Cybil Shepherd went on to other roles. I expect I'll find myself in new roles soon enough. Right now, I see myself moving toward Merryweather, the fairy in Sleeping Beauty who adapted Maleficent's curse, or maybe the Fairy Godmother in Cinderella. Both Disney versions are pleasantly plump - and I suppose that term could be accurately applied to me.
If I get to choose my own archetype, however, I'd rather be Glinda the Good from The Wizard of Oz.
She's not particularly Slender, and I wouldn't be surprised to hear there was no boyfriend for her either - at least not on Match dot com.