Because my mindset is that of a 35-year-old, I realized I was looking in the wrong age group for my next sweetheart. When I was in an airport waiting for a delayed flight a few weeks ago, I sat in the bar with my Bloody Mary and decided to participate in my own experiment. I was people watching and noticing all the cutie patooty 35-year-old men as they strolled or ran down the concourse for their flights. I decided to start looking for those men whom I deemed to be my age or even slightly older. What a shock! My thoughts ran from , "Jeeez, I'll bet that old geezer is my age!" to, "There's a man who's looking for a nurse."
I have to hold the notion that there are attractive, tall, svelte men in their fifties. There is one out there who hasn't met this west Texas tornado yet, but who will meet me and fall madly in love. It tickles me to know that he's out there and I'm fascinated at the prospect of our initial encounter.
Dating for the middle-aged, unless they were slutty in their twenties, is less stressful. I know that I ain't sleeping with any of them on the first, second or even third date, but kissing will be high on my check-off list. Unfortunately for them, it will cost them more to take me out, because of the dinners at nice restaurants, canoodling in expensive bars and travel to exotic locations with separate rooms. I've grown particular and finally figured out what I don't want. I'm worth it, and I know I'll find someone who deserves my best.
No more driving by his house just to think of what he must be doing inside, and you can't call them anymore just to hear their voices because of that damned caller ID. I look forward to that first flush of passion, but I wish I could skip the part where the man is all I think about, I lose weight because I lost my appetite, I ignore my girlfiriend's invitations, and I spend a LOT more time in front of the mirror just trying to keep up with a 35-year-old beauty for whom he might also have eyes. We have to try harder and stay in shape to attract the peacocks, but thank god for lighting. No more, "Hey baby, let's turn the lights up all the way." I have dimmers on all of my lights and would demand the same in any location where those personal exchanges of DNA might occur.
Sooooo, If you're fifty-ish, in great shape, like to travel and dance, don't want to marry me, have enough money to court me properly for the rest of my life and can laugh at all of my jokes, I triple-dawg-dare you to ask me out!
Well, KK, you have managed to create your very own online dating service! But here's the thing...we still haven't figured out how to allow people to make a comment on our blog. Duh. Will someone please respond and tell us how to do this so KK can find a boyfriend?
Also, the boyfriend must like me and my jokes too. This is a must. I'm likeable though, don't worry.
I am not looking for a relationship at all. I prefer work and being free of the distractions that come with men. With me, cats last longer than relationships anyway and they don't care if you talk too much, come home drunk, drive like an Asian or like to watch 'The Next Food Network Star' at 2am.
You go get 'em, KK