All Dressed Up and No One to Flirt With

Even though I'm newly single, I still have lots of married friends, including the two who threw a big bash this weekend to celebrate turning 50. Since the theme of the party was 1962 (the year they were born), I showed up in a black dress right out of Mad Men. When do you get the chance to dress up for a party anymore?

Since married people tend to have friends who are also married, the party seemed to be filled with married and attached couples. And me. All dressed up and no one to flirt with. If I were more like Joan on Mad Men, I would have quietly flirted with the married men. But I'm not. I'm Peggy. So I just flirted with the only single men there -- the two adorable bartenders in their 20s. Naturally, since nothing could come of it, I was witty and enchanting -- a slightly boozy raconteuse.

How come I can't be like that when I'm talking to a guy who is not inappropriate for me? Where is this elusive charm when it counts? When I do meet a guy I could date for reals, why do I seem to shut down and take on the personality of Kristen Stewart, the Twilight actress who has all the vivacious energy of a girl in a coma. (Have you seen her on talk shows? Is she a narcoleptic? Trying to be charitable here.)

Even though I was tempted to linger at the bar and continue to flirt with the cute-but-off-limits bartenders, I knew I had to leave or risk being branded with the dreaded C-word. No, not *that* C-word. The other one. The one that rhymes with lugar.

So I joined the group of women dancing together in a large circle in front of the band that played 60s songs all night. It was fun. Dancing always is. One of the women I danced with looked familiar to me, but I couldn't figure out how I knew her. It bugged me, like when you have a piece of food stuck in your teeth and you can't get rid of it and it just distracts you from being present in the moment. (Maybe she's friends with one of the parents from my daughter's elementary school? Maybe I met her at another party? Is she a parent at my daughter's new school?) I finally gave up thinking about it, and went back to mindlessly dancing the twist and avoiding a surprise fall into the pool.

I woke up the next day and realized how I knew the mystery dancing woman. She's an actress on tv. (Of course!) She was the blonde chick on -- get this -- Cougar Town. WTF is the Universe trying to tell me? And why won't I listen?

No Wonder

In a moment of nerd-chick passion, I recently texted this to a guy I've been dating who reads Heidegger for kicks:

    "Thinking of you in a decidedly non-avuncular way."

Hot, huh? I sure know how to turn on the sexy. 
F*#k! No wonder I'm doomed to be single.

Where the Single People Are

After having spent most of my adult life married, I am now in the middle of learning how to be single again. Right after my split, I pretty easily rediscovered how to live alone (which happens when my daughter spends time with her father). After facing a few weekends with absolutely nothing to do, I learned to make plans ahead of the weekend like any single person with a full, active life. Now I'm learning where the single people are.

Tonight after kickboxing, I stopped by a Trader Joe's in a younger, more single part of town. Filled with sweaty men buying dinner after working out, this "Swingles Trader Joe's" is the exact opposite of my regular Trader Joe's, which I will refer to as the "Bitter Old People Trader Joe's."

Since I go to Bitter Old People Trader Joe's about every other day, I am all too familiar with the type of people who shop there. They are the bitter retired couples who wage their daily wars of attrition while grocery shopping. The question of whether to buy peaches or not becomes an opportunity to express the longtime contempt each has for the other. "We're not getting peaches. They're no good," she complains. "I don't care. I want peaches," he fires back. Their skirmishes of mutual contempt continue throughout their entire depressing visit.

So, imagine my surprise when I walked into Swingles Trader Joe's tonight. The atmosphere was entirely different -- like a singles cruise that sells groceries. Men flirted with me in the produce section and the dairy aisle and during checkout. It felt like everyone was single and looking. It was kind of disconcerting, since it was so unexpected. And, Dude with the Amish facial hair: you were charming, but no, I can't overlook the Rumspringa growing on your chin.
 
Still, I'm not sure I'm going to be going back regularly. Parking is a bitch at Swingles Trader Joe's, but only a minor inconvenience at Bitter Old People Trader Joe's. As someone who lives her life trying to avoid turning left, ease of parking just might trump fun Love Boat atmosphere.

Perfectly Good Reasons To Turn Down an Online Invitation for a Coffee Date

1) He describes himself as "someone with pizazz who enjoys jazz."

2) Taxidermy is one of his hobbies.

3) He thinks "it would be cool to have a stalker."

4) He uses "your" when he should use "you're." Repeatedly.

5) His age randomly changes back and forth from 26 to 35.

6) Tuesdays With Morrie is his favorite book.

7)  He lists "the 6 things I could never live without" as:
air, food, water, sleep, shelter.
(Apparently, he can live without arithmetic and imagination though.)

8) He mentions "being in the company of beautiful women" at least twice in response to how he spends his free time. And nothing else.

9) His favorite tv shows are 60 Minutes and Murder, She Wrote.

10) To the question 'The first things people usually notice about me,' he answers, "I know everything, I never lie and I'm always right."

11) The 27-year-old guy who looks a lot like Topher Grace (but skinnier and more pale) and seems to think his dating profile is an Inside the Actor's Studio questionnaire, answering that famous last question thusly: If heaven exists, what would I like to hear God say when I arrive at the pearly gates?
"God will appear to me in the form of Ving Rhames. He will open his arms and say 'my nigga.' "

Making My Smart-Assery Work For Me, Instead of Just Pissing Off People

I was recently contacted through the dating website by a guy whose profile seemed to reveal a business man who spends most of his time running his various small companies and little time having fun. He clearly wants a Barbie doll for "fine dining" and "international travel," not a real woman, and certainly not a foul-mouthed, occasionally ornery woman with strong opinions.  

Business Man: Hello, do you like educated successful men? If so, please read. Lol. BTW, love your smile.

Me: Hi, You sound like a great guy, but I just don't think you're my type. I'm really looking for a guy who was fired from a carwash.

Business Man: Well on this site it should be easy to find lazy, unemployed guys. Hell, I find women all the time like that here.

Great. Just the kind of ringing endorsement of online dating I want to hear right now.  

How Come...?

My middle-school-aged daughter recently confessed to me that she has this unique problem that no one else has, or has ever had, and because of that, I would never understand her endless frustration stemming from it. She then complained, "Mom, how come only the boys I *don't* like have crushes on me, and the cute boys I *do* like are never interested in me?!"

I laughed and laughed. And when I was finished laughing five minutes later, I tried to say something, but I thought about what she had said and I started laughing uncontrollably again. When I finally composed myself enough to be able to form words, I told her that that's a universal problem for EVERY single woman all over the world (and a problem, I suspect, for most single guys too). I explained to her that finding the right special someone can be a long and painful process, fraught with disappointment and heartbreak, but that it is all part of the human condition.

Admittedly, not my greatest response as a mother. And then we went out to get frozen yogurt to revel in that part of the human condition.

Thank God I Used to Give a Shit About Politics

Perhaps I should have raised an eyebrow when he told me in a private message through the dating website that he and his closest circle of friends belonged to a Mensa group. (But I *like* smart guys, I told myself.)

Perhaps I should have red-flagged his comment about coming clean about the extra weight he had put on in the last year, but was juice-fasting to take off again. (But I've been overweight before, so I've been there.)

Perhaps I should have been wary of his comment that he is not the hiking/camping/outdoorsy type. (But his profile is hilarious, so I can go camping and hiking with my friends.)

This is how I found myself on a first date with a large, pear-shaped man with a gentle, avuncular presence, and pants hiked up almost to his armpits. "Mensa" and I had written progressively longer private messages back and forth over the course of a week. He was funny and smart, an irresistible combination that can charm the pants right off me. Thus, feeling as if we knew each other a little bit already, we dispensed with the typical first date at a coffee place, and decided to have dinner and then check out a rockabilly band afterward.

The first 15 minutes of our date was quite strained, as we struggled to find the easy, natural rhythm of conversation that we had had in our written exchanges. Turning to politics out of desperation, Mensa, who moderates a political blog for said circle of friends, began to talk about the Presidential election. Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner! Thank god I used to give a shit about politics, or else I wouldn't have had a thing to say to him.

Even though I've taken 2012 off from giving a shit about politics, I had 29 years worth of political knowledge (well, mostly outrage) that I was able to tap into to spark a passionate hour-long discussion about American politics. About 45 minutes into it, Mensa paused, gave me a long wistful look, and gushed, "Wow. You know a lot about politics. I only know one other woman who knows that much about politics and likes to talk about it."

F*CK! I was just trying to get through this "date" with minimal awkwardness, not make the guy go ga-ga over me.  It is at this point in the conversation, when I frantically start looking back at all the things I should NOT have said to him.

When I used the word "verisimilitude" in conversation, I might as well have been nibbling on Mensa's earlobe. When I brought up M3 and why has the government suspiciously stopped publishing those figures, I might as well have been telling him to undress me. And when I explained the reason why Howard Dean is persona non grata in the Obama administration (short answer: Rahm Emanuel hates his guts), I might as well have been giving Mensa a topless lap dance.

Fortunately, it was time to go see that rockabilly band across the street, so my unknowing "flirtatious sweet nothings" about M3, the Federal Reserve, and Rahm came to an abrupt, but natural, halt. The rockabilly band was really great, and Mensa and I talked about other things (our mothers, my divorce). And I can honestly say I had a good time, despite my initial panic. At the end of the evening, I told Mensa he was a great guy, just not my type of great guy. And I watched him slowly shuffle his way back to his car, feeling just a little bit shitty for having physical attraction count so heavily as a deal-breaker for me.

What I've Learned So Far About Online Dating

1. Don't post your picture before you write a really kick-ass profile to go along with it. If you do it the ass-backwards way, you will only be contacted by guys looking for arm candy, a place to stay, or a mother for their four children under the age of 10.

2. Don't make assumptions about a guy based only on his profile. Meet him in person at Starbucks to confirm your hunch that he's nuts.

3. Don't wear your brand new push-up bra on a coffee date before you've taken it out in public to see how it behaves around other people. If you don't test drive it first, there will be a WWE-style wrestling match going on all evening inside your new bra.

Guys in Their 20s

Is there any place on earth where physical beauty is more commodified than Los Angeles? I don't think so. Physical beauty is as ubiquitous and interchangeable in LA as corn or pork bellies on the commodities exchange. You don't click with this hottie? Next!

So, I was pretty astonished when guys in their 20s started contacting me on the dating website. And not just guys with nothing going on, except their weekly trips to the local comic book store. Many of them are hot. You might think I would be flattered, but you'd be wrong. My first reaction was, 'What the hell is wrong with these guys?!'

You see, I've been honest in my profile about my age and the fact that I'm raising a kid. I'm 48 and I plainly state that I am looking to date guys between 35 and 54. I really don't get why a hot guy in his 20s would want to date someone MUCH older. If their motivation is *just* sex, they have plenty of opportunities to hook up with someone in their 20s or 30s, who is just as hot as they are. And wouldn't it be excruciatingly awkward to date someone at such a dramatically different stage in life?

Hence, I've been grilling these guys to find out why they would want to date someone so much older. It's kind of fun putting them on the spot, to see how they tap dance around the question. The typical answers I've received are that older women are more mature, more interesting, more confident, smarter, and know what they want. Whatever. My guess is that it's the novelty of sex with someone much older.

For me, the temptation of dating a guy in his 20s lies not just in the presumably awesome sex, but also in the opportunity to torture my friends by frequently using the phrase, "I have taken a young lover," pronounced "lovah" and said in a dramatic British accent. As if I were a 48-year-old duchess stuck in a lonely marriage to a wealthy frail old man.