All the good ones are taken
Steve went to brunch at a friend’s home on Sunday. He knew he was being ”fixed up,” yet, again. All of his married friends wanted him to be ”as happy as they were.”
For years, he had observed the happy couples -the snipes, the snips, the eye-rolling and wondered just how happy they actually were.
Then again, who was he to wonder. He had been on six different dating sites the last eight years, and was still “Just looking.”
Truth be told, hundreds of dates later, he concluded, it was a jungle out there. More often than not, he fell in love. And it was rarely reciprocated. Women that this age and stage (50/60) were tough. Either they had a “My Man Must Have List,” or they were “Just The Sex, Please,” one-night-stand-women.
He tried Tinder and met a beautiful redhead, his age, height, and education who just wanted someone “To hold her once a week,” that’s all. Next!
This time, his ”fix up” was Veronique. She was short, perky, with a head of curly gray hair and a perpetually surprised expression. Having been around the block a few times, he knew Veronique was 60, if a day, and she had some work done. No one look surprised all the time.
Nevertheless, she was lively and interesting. She been to Thailand (Red flag-he had seen 60 Minutes about Thailand being the plastic surgery capital.)
When she spoke passionately about “the twins,” he assumed she was talking about her kids. No. She had two Siamese cats, that were highly intelligent and she knew they spoke to her in Cat Language.
That was it.
Steve did his perfect guest, clear the table, help the hostess with dessert routine, and “Oh, my! Look at the time.” He had to go and pick up a friend at the airport. Floods of apologies.
He had this exit down to a science. Hasta la vista, baby.
Steve swore he would never get fixed up again.