Wrinkly Bits
A Blog by Gail Cushman
Hello, Blue Eyes
Hello, Blue Eyes! Well, I’m not really sure about that, but maybe. My drugstore cowboy has gone away and now I’m on some dating sites, checking out the eye candy, or men who think they are eye candy. I kind of liked knowing old Luke. He was a pseudo-cowboy, but still he had some good qualities. I don’t think he ever read my blogs, at least he never indicated that he did.
But never look back.
I’m writing a bestselling book about online dating for seniors. (Note the word “bestselling.”) I have never been on an online dating site I had to pay for but felt the need to register on some dating sites, just to make my book authentic. It’s the way of the future, I think, and I don’t want to be left behind. Anyway, I’m now seventy-six and pretty much out of touch with dating, except for old Luke. I wrote a profile for two sites, both sites had been around for a while, paid my money for a two-month gig, long enough to get deep into writing my new book, which will be called something like Widows and Widowers: Dancing with a New Partner. My profile indicated “looking for: widower, age seventy to eighty, who can fix things.” That was just in case I needed something repaired, like the alligator-sized hole that is still in my bathroom floor.
Within hours the eye candy started popping up like microwave popcorn. Hundreds of men of all ilk with their shirt buttons unbuttoned halfway to their bellybuttons told me had a great smile, which was untrue because in the photo I posted I was bouncing up and down on an elephant, and I was more concerned in staying on the bumpy elephant than smiling. I had given my correct age, but for some reason, there were a lot of men who were in their 50’s and 60’s, not much older than my kids, who were hot to trot with this old girl. Forget them. Some were from far away, North Carolina, Arizona, and a bunch from Texas. Forget them, too.
Finally, a few Idaho men showed up, followed by men from Wyoming and Montana. They were slow to find me, but then the Internet in the West isn’t aways what it should be. Several claimed to be cowboys and I like cowboys because there is something romantic about a cowboy, his horse, and riding off into the sunset. I leafed through the dozens of photos and profiles, peering at them, when I stopped cold. The photo I was staring at was of a Montana cowboy and I knew I had seen him before, maybe, on my last trip when I was visiting Luke. I swiped right to hold him place while I swiped left to toss out the other photos, then returned, enlarged the photo, and looked again. Yup, I was sure of it. He had a cowboy hat on so I couldn’t see his eyes, but it sure looked like blue eyes from my Superbowl date with Luke. Widower. Seventy-seven. Montana cowboy. Loves to travel. Looking for love. Could it be?
I paused over the smile button on the website and stopped. I’m not really sure if he is Superbowl cowboy and don’t want to be presumptuous. He could be the axe murderer I hear about on Dr. Phil and Oprah. I quickly typed, “Who won the Superbowl?” Then erased it and replaced it with “Did you see the full moon last night?” Erased that and typed what I really wanted to know, “What color are your blue eyes?” and hit send. It’s just a question, but I looked at what I had sent…too late now. Stay tuned.
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