Lovin' At Any Age

I have learned a few things this past week. Knee surgery is a bitch. First, when in physical therapy make sure you always wear the good sweatpants without the hole in the crotch. It's not a good look to be getting your stretch on and have your beaver peak out.  Second, rehab in the daytime a sexy spot for sagging singles. If you're over 75 and single, this is the place to be. Now I'm not putting down "old lovin'". That generation must  know what to do. I mean, they have had long lasting marriages that usually only ended because " death did them part". Plus, there is something sweet about two sets of dentures clacking together resulting in a minty Polident smooch. 

 I recently had a client of mine pass away. Her and her husband were married over fifty years. She was my standing appointment  and every saturday for over four years we would meet at noon. It was the longest relationship I have had in quite sometime.  She would ask me how my week was, tell me how dangerous NYC was to go to alone ( she knew that I adore manhattan) and what her husband was making for dinner. Between them six lives were created and she made it a point to say that marriage and kids is not always " easy and breezy ". But her honesty displayed always resulted in love, patience,  trust and strength that she and her husband had for each other.  With those key ingredients,  " you would be able to work through anything "  she would tell me. That is some recipe this day in age. Every saturday at noon is not the same without her, but may her and her wisdom rest in peace. 

Now let's play the modern day geriatric dating game. My nana, who lives in a retirement village down in south jersey tells me tales of dating in her area. It's the same as any other age bracket , if not worse. The ratio of woman to men is off, resulting in a higher count of females to every male.  Baked goods are a lure woman will use to acquire a male love interest and if he decides to stray towards another female a smack faster than a major league baseball pitcher will be administered to all guilty parties. It's like the show Dynasty but without the shoulder pads and the smell of moth ball clothing instead.  There're is also a lake that these seniors like to relax near during the warmer months. And should I even share with you, that the men like to wear speedos to this leisurely body of water ? Well , I just did so try to shake that mental image out of your head. And in the words of my nana, " things are dangling and swingin". 

 With all this dating information my head is going to explode. Dating is not an easy task , regardless of age.  The most important thing I have learned while listening to the above stories is that micro-mini swimwear will leave little to the imagination and the mental image of two walnuts cascading on the floor keep coming to mind. Alright, alright. I also learned that love, patience, trust and strength are needed to have a long lasting commitment.

 Tommorrow is another day and for now, I must go. 

 I have to check my sweatpants for any holes. 

Excerpt from my book, chapter 6, Mr. Racist

It has been a few weeks since I have blogged.  And so, I am back. I have decided to entertain you with an excerpt from chapter six of my book titled " Mr. Racist." 

The first paragraph sets up the situation of how my girlfriend Tanya and I decided to go speed dating. The few after that explains what I had experienced and heard from my 10-three minute dates. Enjoy!

  Online dating had not worked; neither had being set up. I needed another method to end my singleness, so my friend    Tanya and I decided to go speed dating. I figured this could be a safer way to approach dating and if I didn't like any of the eligible bachelors ( or vice versa ) , I could always chalk it up to fun night out with a girlfriend. 

   Tanya and I chose seats right next to each other, with me first in line to experience any possible weirdos. " Hey, I'll warn you of what's coming your way," I told her. 

    She looked at me and laughed.  " Thanks." 

    

    We heard the opening chime of the spoon to the glass, and the parade of bachelors began. My mini-dates went as follows:

    Bachelor #1: " I think I am drunk."

    Bachelor #2: " I am not a social person and really hate talking."

    Bachelor #3: " The girl next to us, the one I'm going to meet next , is that you friend? I think she may be more my type than you are."

    Bachelor #4: " I have to pee." 

    Bachelor#5: " Your a hairdresser? What would you do with my hair? "

    Bachelor#6: " I'm a bit older than this age bracket, but I fibbed the age detail because I like younger woman. Actually, my daughter is your age and I recently became a grandfather for the first time!"

    Bachelor#7:  " If your a hairdresser, can you tell I am wearing a toupee?"

    Bachelor#8:  " I work at a car dealership, just bought my own condo and love traveling. Stop! ,  I said in my head, I think we have a winner!  But for the sake of the last two guys and the fee I paid, I decided to hang in through the next 

    six minutes. 

    Bachelor#9: " I'm friends with the guy that thought your friend was more his type. If she isn't interested in him, do you think you could tell her I am interested i her as well?" 

   Bachelor#10:  Actually, I have no idea what my tenth date said. He didn't speak much english. And just like a thunder an lightening storm, my quick and easy dating night blew in and out, even quicker.

   " Tanya , I am exhausted and not in the mood to mingle anymore. Can we leave?"

    It turned out she was done too, and jerked her head towards the door. 

   " How many did you check off?" I asked.

   " Three. Bachelors three, seven and nine. How about you? "

   " Just one, number eight. And by the way, you might have a little love triangle with numbers three and nine." I explained the situation to her. 

  " Thanks for the heads up , " she said , "Let's get out of here." 

 And for my blog readers, I did go out with Bachelor #8 which is how he acquired his name of Mr. Racist.

Five minutes in a cab

My latest trip to New York City proved to be a great success.  I had my second book signing and the chance to meet and chat with many wonderful people.  Usually when transporting myself all over the city taking the subway or simply walking is the way to go for me. Between the bitter cold and a on going knee ailment I chose to take a different route;  NYC cabs. This is not the first time I have taken a cab, but this was sure a different experience. 

I was staying in midtown and I needed to get to Union Square.  I took myself to an avenue facing towards downtown, thinking I would have a better chance. I did what everyone does to catch a cab, I lifted up my skirt inappropriately above my knee (the uninjured one) and hoped for the best. Just kidding, no one really does that.  Plus, I only do that in New Jersey.  So, I shimmied myself to a street corner and lifted my hand upwards. As I stood their watching cabs pass filled with patrons, I decided I had put my time into this corner so I am staying right here.  I mean, I  put two whole minutes into this commitment of waiting. Just then, a tall,  lean and stunning blond walks right next to me, to do the same thing: hail down a cab. The nerve of her I thought.  Like every good prostitute she should know this is my corner, I was here first.  Oh it's on, I thought to myself. I am definitely not going to lose this battle. Just then, a yellow cab pulls up, the driver rolls down the window and says "hey you, get in."  I looked next to me at blondie and then behind me realizing this " hey you" was meant for me.  I gave her a look that defined the phrase "see ya sucker " all over my face as she shook her head at me. This is exactly how Cinderella must have felt when the horse and carriage pulled up for the ball. 

As I headed inside to see my prince, the other side of the cab door had shut.  "I thought that guy would have never left."  the cabbie says.  "Union Square is where I'm headed, thank you."  I replied. And this is where my five minute cab ride turned into an episode of the dating game. 

As I took in all the smells the cab had to offer like Pine Sol, body odor and Twizzlers ( cherry flavored) I was asked a few questions." I saw you from across the road. I pick you up. You have boyfriend "  the nice cabbie asks me. Then he proceeds to explain, all the while gumming to death chicken nugget poppers with the four teeth he had that he is currently single, from Calcutta and that we would make "vetty nice couple". He proposed that if I like spicy food he would take me out to dinner. Midway to my destination, he adjusts the review mirror so all he can see every single horrific facial expression. After it is clear to him that we will never be a twosome we arrive at my destination as he asks me once more if I have made my choice on spicy food and a commitment with himself. 

Now I only require a few things and currently he is two out of three. He has a car and a job but no teeth, so I must decline. 

I am sure Mr. Calcutta will find the woman of his dreams. Someone who will share his love of spicy food and maybe she will have eight more teeth to complete a full set between them. As for me , I am still looking for my love. 

 As I paid the cabbie and closed the door I watched him drive away all the while thinking if the song "You'll never find another love like mine" by Lou Rawls was playing in his mind while mentally referring to my decision and then  departure. 

And then right then and there I had a craving for cherry flavored licorice. Hmmm, wonder why. 

Three Ring Circus

Dating can have it's challenges at any age. Let me explain.

Yesterday I was watching an episode of The Golden Girls. For anyone who is not familiar it is a show from the 80's about four single woman who are dating in the second part of their lives due to losing a spouse through divorce or death. One of the characters Dorothy met a man who was a lawyer. A charming smart, handsome and well articulated man who also dresses up as a clown in his down time to entertain children as a way to decompress from his full time law career. 

 Not soon after dating him for a short time, Dorothy was getting the feeling he was going to propose and liking the idea of being a lawyers wife. Instead, this high powered man decides to be a clown full time and hopes that she will travel the three-ring kinda life and accept him for this new man he wants to become. 

 I can relate because isn't all of our dates a three ring circus? That the first ring is filled with surreal ideas of who this person is, the second is the reality of what the relationship truly is and the third is a large elephant crapping all over the whole thing. 

 I would like to say that diluted expectations are  expected at any age but what is really important is just to have fun and maybe even run away with the clown. Hey, at least he has a job in this recession. 

 And finally, everything is always better with your girlfriends sitting at the kitchen table with a cheesecake in the middle and four forks. Plates excluded.

Welcome to My Blog

Hi! And thank you to anyone who has already supported me and my book. You see, I have been telling my friends and family the stories of my dating life for years. And it has been highly entertaining due to the men I have met.
For years I have been told "you need to write a book".  And so, I have.
For anyone who can relate, please read these stories and know you are not alone in this new age dating world.
And for the people who can't relate, then please sit back and relax to what you will hear. This is the life of a hairdresser who has dated all the crazies. Be prepared to laugh.

 Welcome to my world:)