BY ROBERTA GRAFF
Cartoon by Randy Glasbergen
(www.glasbergen.com)
“Slim, attractive widow with
her own teeth, full head of hair
and no visible scars interested
in meeting intelligent, active man
who is ambulatory and has pulse.
(Not necessarily in that order.)
And so one year, practically to
the day, after my dearly, beloved
husband had a brain hemorrhage
and left me without warning, I
ventured into the world of social
networking. My prior dating
experience took place during the
Eisenhower administration.
With the help of a friend I compiled
a profile. First, we created a
pushy, aggressive, arrogant showoff.
Then, we came up with a shy
housewife, who is only happy when
she’s doing laundry. Eventually, we
developed a relatively cerebral,
relatively truthful (only fudged my
age by five years) upbeat female,
who enjoys all the things retired
people say they will do but never
get around to doing. I vaguely recognized
her.
After paying my fee, I was (supposedly)
carefully vetted to see if I
was in prison at this or any other
time, had been arrested or perpetrated
the violent overthrow of
the government. I met all positive
criteria. The profile of the woman
posted would have men swooning
to meet her in no time!
And they did. Within days I
was inundated with responses.
Many were fascinating. There was
a 27-year-old Navajo, who loves
older women, a shy Taoist, who
loves stray animals and an English
teacher in Vermont, who used
double negatives and would love to
meet a woman with garage space. A
picture of the garage was required.
There was a Jerseyite who would
not even bother to negotiate the
bridge unless I was interested in
marriage and a 35-year-old who
lives with his parents. His passions
are Ben & Jerry’s and nachos. And
if I picked him up, he would consider
going out with me. There was
a guy whose handle was “Muscles
Marinara.” He lifts weights, enjoys
hiking and doesn’t like pasta. His
great love is his pit bull.
There was a pleasant-sounding
guy who was once in a 35-day
coma. After 17 years of rehab, he
is now ready to start a new life. And
who could forget the retired army
officer, who loves long, moon-lite
walks on the beach, even though
he was mugged there three times.
I heard from a former Green
Beret, who wanted to meet an
attorney, and a man with a van, who
would like to take me on a scenic
drive if I shared expenses. There
was a fellow from Connecticut, who
wanted to make a date, but couldn’t
commit as he was on a wait list for
a kidney. He followed a guy from
Brooklyn, who just got over herpes.
Emails came from a Pacific Islander,
who loves animals, but isn’t too
fond of people; an 80-year-old, who
has little baggage but occasionally
needs oxygen; and an outgoing,
active senior, who enjoys television,
movies, long lunches and even longer
naps.
I heard from an Aryan from
Darian, who wanted to know my
mother’s maiden name before even
considering getting together; an
accountant from Brooklyn, who has
dizzy spells; and a former basketball
player whose nickname was “break
wind.” And who could forget the
28-year-old from Pennsylvania,
who likes older woman and adores
sex in public places.
I also passed on Bad Bruce
from Bayside, a former hippy who
is finally off drugs; Joe the Giant,
who was a professional poker player
and a former Navy man. He just
found out he has prostate cancer
and would like me to know what I
missed in case he doesn’t make it.
I felt guilty about actually going
out on a date with any of the aforementioned.
After all, how could I
waste their time, even though I
had nothing but time. I also turned
Slim, Attractive
Widow
52 NORTH SHORE TOWERS COURIER ¢ September 2018
/www.glasbergen.com
