Looking for Mr. Right Now

So, here's the thing. My youngest son talked me into signing up for eharmony.com. He's concerned his aging mother will find herself doddering and alone with no fallback (so to speak). Or, as he winsomely puts it, what the fuck, you can at least get out and have some dinners and drinks that you don't have to pay for.  True.  But there may be a hidden cost here. Nevertheless, I fell for it.

Oh the excitement. Each morning I get my coffee and log on to see who's checked me out. I'm up to 30  gentlemen so far but I have not been moved to send any of them a "let's get to know each other a little better" email. At least I guess that's how these things work. Hell, maybe if they're interested they're supposed to send ME an email. Nobody has, though, so I guess they aren't any more whizzed than I am. I was leery of just this sort of scenario for two reasons: 1) maybe there really isn't anybody out there and 2) You hang yourself out there and people throw tomatoes, or completely ignore you, neither of which goes a long way to building self-esteem, to say nothing of a "relationship" (I hate that word), or even that free dinner and martinis thing. Man.

OK, I need to be more realistic and open, I'm told. I'm working on that. I think the I've got the realistic part covered - I know he's not going to look like George Clooney, or even Donald Sutherland, I'm not delusional or taking a lot of Xanax. But hair would be a plus, no? (That lets out half of these dudes in a blink.)  Being able to see their toes when standing would be next. (It's narrowing fast.)  We're getting down to it now, warriors, and this is just the physical stuff. Let's face it, the over 50 crowd is stretched pretty thin on hot. Just saying.

So, what's left?  Well, the maybes with blurry pics, but then I start reading the profiles. This is not for the faint-hearted and should best be done with vodka nearby, but alas I plunge on through a wildwood of self-righteous planet-saving, I heart my truck, hunting and fishing, cat love, hiking, and corvettes. I could adjust a bit, I think, wavering... then I go further to find favorites like music is Garth Brooks, Lady Antebellum, a plethora of Norah Jones (usually spelled wrong), TV shows like Lost, movies like True Lies, and my favorite "I don't read much". Then we get to what they really want out of life, etc., and this is standardized pap, usually accompanied by misspellings. At this point I freak out and check my profile to make sure I didn't check the "any" box for education. Sadly, I didn't.

I leave you with "open", then. Yes, I'm a misanthrope but not one who holds grudges. I think the glass is half-full, the sun will come out, and my dogs will love me. I'm open, but not desperate or crazy and people still make me laugh. I'm trying to do my part and I'm still hoping for a free steak and martini anyway.

Hey universe, or perhaps Mr. #31, give me a little help, will you?