IN WHICH A TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY, TERRORIST-FIGHTIN’ KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR APPEARS.
I heartily recommend OKCupid.com for anyone dipping their toes into the dating scene, because it’s free and without obligation.Once I signed up I was convinced I’d done the right thing, as immediately my profile was taken up by OKCupid’s owner, Match.com. Match and equivalent sites like eHarmony charge a monthly fee of around $20 up, depending on the commitment, and as I saw from the samples of candidates Match.com was heading my way, the quality of the men was no different than that of the matches on the free site, OKCupid.
I posted professional headshots, and stated my actual age, 58. I put the age range for my choice of men as 50 – 70, since I fell in the middle, and was open to everything from new friends to finding a relationship; at the time it seemed like a good, practical call. But my professionally Photoshopped pictures, with my long blonde hair, wrinkle-free face and “curvy” body assignation immediately drew younger users in their thirties, who marveled over my apparent youth.
The attention from them was fun, of course, but they were no better looking than the majority of men on the site, which was a big disappointment. Though several checked out in terms of personality, education, values and other factors, physically the vast majority was at best average but mainly below average looking, which is to say, unhittable. And just as I looked, lived and acted younger, the guys my age seemed older than their actual age, in every respect.
As they started to flock to me, I found myself wanting again and again to only be friends with these guys, even as they were sexually attracted to me. I resigned myself to the notion that internet dating would be more Meh.com than Match.com, and I’d have to find other ways to meet the hot men I craved.
But then, after a couple days, when I was ready to head for the hills — or bars and clubs — what do you know, a tall, dark and handsome, 43-year-old MAN with his job listed as “serving my country” came into my life: the sizzling Lieutenant Mark Lopez, Navy Seal. Yep. Navy fuckin’ Seal.
Not just gorgeous, and fifteen years younger, but the buff superhero a girl raised on archetypes and fairytales dreams of, even if, like me, she didn’t realize she could be so attracted, deep down, to such a — well — stereotype. Until now.
That’s because muscles, bravery and wills — and other things — of steel, are ALWAYS hot.
Yours truly,
