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50 Shades of Gray-Haired Dates

50 Shades of Gray-Haired Dates

©iStock.com/XiXinXing

One would think that at my age the fact that Captain Crunch is not actually a captain would teach me not to be naïve. Can I believe that Ms. Muffet actually sat on a tuffet or was it a recliner?

When does the truth manifest itself in the dating world as well?

Have I been looking for love in all the wrong places?

Up until recently I thought I knew the secret. For those not currently in a huggy relationship, the most popular meeting ground seemed to be the line at any pharmacy.

I once overheard one man saying to a woman while gazing soulfully into her shopping cart: “Gas and Heartburn Pills?  Gee Whiz, Me too!" Burping, they interlocked their carts and frolicked to check out. Perhaps the solution is to find someone with a similar malady and we could be on our way.

I used to prefer internet dating compared to my previous pastime, which was singing “Love for Sale,” at malls, with rouged cheeks wearing my Anna Lucasta, off-the-wrinkled shoulder gown. Since I became, um, a seasoned citizen, guys want me to pay for their parking and give them an appliance as well.

Surfing the web is cheaper. I have met many interesting but sometimes unsuitable characters online.

My first responder was from “Schlemiels on Wheels.” He arrived on skates. I had to grab onto the back of his jacket as we whizzed down the boulevard for the early bird special.

By the way, what brilliant advertising man came up with that title? Early bird? Worms? Bleck!

For one site, I requested a tall man. It worked out well until I finally had to end it when I always ended up with splinters in my thighs.

My next computer match was a dermatologist. He wrote that famous book, "7 Solutions for Highly Itchy People.” On Valentine’s Day he bought me one long stem bottle of calamine lotion. I scratched him off my list.

One nutty lover wanted me to call him "Ida Lupino" during coitus.

Another drank his wine from a “sippy cup.”

Destiny intervened during my last connection in a most unusual manner.

Having urged all seniors to practice safe sex, I usually wear a seat belt. But this one time, I did not. At the height of passion I whispered to my partner, “Are you comfortable?” 

He answered in a suddenly strange accent, "I make a living.”

I laughed so hard that I fell off the bed and injured my back. So now — as everything always works out as it should — I am currently dating my chiropractor.

He is truly nice, but very manipulating. To this very day though, he is still the only man I have ever allowed to place me in a headlock.

Jan Marshall

Jan Marshall is an author, humor columnist, certified clinical hypnotherapist and motivational speaker.

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