After a long, and overall good, marriage, I am a single man again. For the first time in more than twenty years, I have a bathroom to myself. It's been quite an adjustment (in general, not the bathroom accessibility), and nothing speaks to the changes I am facing more than dipping a toe into the dating pool. What's happened? What's changed? I feel like Sam Baldwin in Sleepless in Seattle: How does this work? What am I supposed to do? "So, how's my butt?"
I'm too old for the bar scene, and I don't imagine one meets many eligible women while trail running alone in the wilderness. The couple of running groups I occasionally associate with have no single women age appropriate/of interest to me. At least none that I have crossed paths with. So, I thought I would give technology a try.
I've created profiles on Tinder, Bumble, Plenty of Fish, and Match. I posted recent and decent photos of myself - photos that even show my ugly mug with my god-awful, skewed smile. I've swiped right like a wild man, and sent messages until I have exhausted all available, interesting profiles in my area. Then, I sat back and waited.
And waited...and waited. Nothing -- Not. A. Damn. Thing.
Well, that's demoralizing. They say even a blind squirrel finds the occasional nut. It's unfortunate that a blind squirrel is more successful than I am.
Good thing I only bought one ticket to Thailand.