When I found myself single for the first time in 30 years, the last thing I thought about was dating another man. Any straight man. Not even Bradley Cooper.

Well, okay, that's a lie. I'd take him even though Oscar snubbed him in American Sniper and he's partial to twenty-something models. I digress.

While some of my gay guy friends switch partners like I switch purses, I knew I needed a long, dry spell to reflect on how I could have been so wrong about mr. invisible, my ex, before I considered looking at another man. Were there bread crumbs leading me to discover invisible's dark side in our three decades together? Yes. Did I ignore the gravity of some of my discoveries? Yes, yes I did, and I've played enough of "what if I had only" to last me a life time. But each time I'd asked mr. invisible during those years, "What's this mean?," he convinced me that I was paranoid, "always jumping from A to Z." Since that IS a family trait (my cousin Deb and I like to say we could be the best the FBI ever had if they went rogue and hired gals over 50 who know how to jump to a big 'ol conclusion), he quelled my questions and we went on, holding hands, laughing and living...until we didn't.

Like many red-blooded divorcees with perhaps a scintilla of estrogen left, I eventually began to see a far distant future with a man in it, one who isn't worried about carbs or crow's feet or premium vodka or how his butt looks in his skinny jeans. I imagine a well-groomed man, his breath caressing the juncture of my earlobe and the side of my neck. I sigh as he takes my chin, gently turning my face to his, and his eyes, the color of blue agate edged with lashes like midnight, meet mine. I smile, slipping off my perfect stilettos and...OHHHH...I'm all aflutter. So I decide to do what my friends have been urging me to do for two years.

I join

NEWS FLASH: There are no Bradley Cooper clones hanging out in this giant, online wasteland for the lovelorn, loveless, and toothless. In my three months of mostly hitting DELETE, DELETE, and DELETE, I've found plenty of tatted, mutton-chopped, Harley-riding bad boys with bellys like beer kegs and soulful Prince Charmings who want to hold your hand during the bad times--and want you to cook, clean and bring them to paradise with the other hand in your spare time. Or 30-year-olds who want a purse--or 80-year-olds who want a nurse. Then there are the wackadoodles with hair on their heads and faces that hasn't been trimmed since they were singing one toke over the line, Sweet Jesus.

What perverse bit of code lurks in my well-thought-out profile that tells some computer somewhere that these men gone wrong are perfect matches ?? To be fair, one in every 20 of them looks and writes and spells like he could be an afternoon delight and on occasion, just like waiting breathlessly to be asked to the prom, he sends a note. Or I do.

But I am not the girl who makes a snap decision about anything. I like to touch, and feel and think about new shoes before I buy them--and I do love a shoe--and if they're still there when I go back, it's meant to be. So, after three months of swiping, liking, winking and writing to a few suitable matches sent from the big computer in the sky, I slip my stilettos back on (the new suede ones in that fab shade for fall, like a perfect pinot, the ones that were still there when I went back to snap them up) and return to my dreams. As I click on this week's new matches, I see a photo that makes me think, "Hmmm...I like those eyes."

Stay tuned.

Click to read the next post: "Family Matters"
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  • Avatar Pamela says:

    Just caught up on your musings here. Your new venture had momentarily slipped from consciousness. Seriously girlfriend I feel there are bones for a screenplay here. Let’s make it happen. If you don’t turn this into a bigger project you are nuts. This is good stuff, Maynard!

    • Avatar linda_notonfb says:

      Oh, Ms. Pam, that’s what I love about you! You are an expert at seeing things on a grand scale; at this point, I’m building readership…and then, who knows?? Please pass the blog address on to anyone who may enjoy going along for the ride!

  • Avatar Carolina says:

    Oh yikes! This should provide writing fodder for months to come. I am staying tuned.

    • Avatar linda_notonfb says:

      You know me, so fodder isn’t exactly the word I’ve been using–surreal realities of dating in the 21st century should be my book!

  • Avatar Madame Barbara says:

    We are all there, sista, and you captured it beautifully. What’s next…

    • Avatar linda_notonfb says:

      Please, Madame Barbara, read those cards and tell me if there’s hope for someone in this calendar year! At this point, my high heels are more interesting–particularly the suede ones like yours!

  • Avatar JuleS says:

    I love the perfect shoe and its selection criteria. Hopefully, there is a man who can hold up to the “shoe test”.

  • Avatar SusieQ says:

    I am waiting with “baited breath” as they say for Mr. Right to not be Mr. Wrong…keep us posted on the ALL the details.

    • Mr. Right Now will suffice at this point, as long as he knows the difference between two and too. That’s a serious problem on match–grammar and grooming!