Tag Archives: dating after 50

The Lifeguard

I’m sure if you’ve been reading this blog you believe that all my dates are complete failures, that I’m incapable of finding enough common ground for an actual relationship. Or a second date. That may be mostly true. And I’m certainly guilty of only posting my most disastrous dates, wrought with angst and, ideally, hilarity.

But there are, occasionally, success stories. There was the awesome guy I made out with a few years back. Then he invited me over for dinner. Sadly that ended with Bin Laden being discovered in a bunker. CNN is definitely not an aphrodisiac! Well, almost one year ago I experienced my best OKCupid date ever. I was afraid to write about it because, well, I didn’t want to jink things, I guess. It’s been long enough. Without further ado, I give you “The Lifeguard.”

My sister booked an oceanfront condo for a family reunion, of sorts. Not the whole family, just a few select adults. I arrived at LAX before anyone else and picked up the rental car. OKCupid had just debuted their new feature, in an attempt to compete with Tinder, that lets you peruse matches “Nearby.” By the time I got to Santa Monica, 150 guys had checked out my profile. I scrolled through the faces and saw one that looked dazzling. I read his deets, which included that he was an LA County lifeguard.

“Hi! I’m staying at the beach this week,” I wrote. “Which lifeguard stand are you working? Maybe I could go out in front and flounder around.” After a few adorable emails back and forth, including one that wondered if he was, indeed, worth floundering for, we made plans to meet for a beer. He had somewhat apologizing for not being “much of a fashion statement,” in his sandals and shorts but…um…LIFEGUARD! And, uh, 6’4″?!? No need to add super good-looking. Or being the team doctor for the LA Derby Dolls! Soon I was sitting across from him on a barstool, sipping a Stella on the Santa Monica Pier.

He was smart and funny, easy to talk to and, did I say, handsome as hell? And TALL? We had a couple beers and he walked me back to my condo. A gentlemanly hug and a quick kiss goodnight left me most definitely wanting more. He followed up our first date an hour later with an email: “Mind was adrift as I thought of this feathery 5’10” woman that I just met. So much so that I did not notice the bike path taking a turn to the left…according to the two people that watched me do a face plant into the sand… That was the most fabulous, delicious way to end a day of work at the beach that I can remember in a long, long time. Thank you.”

I was in LA for seven days and saw him four times. I rode my bike down to Marina Del Rey and met him for lunch. On my last night we met for a drink. But one evening mid-week he suggested we walk through the Venice canals. I’d never seen them and thought that sounded…romantic. He picked me up in his red convertible 450SL (uh, yeah, like my favorite car EVER) and then we strolled the narrow sidewalks, over tiny bridges, holding hands. When we got back to his apartment, he closed the door and said, “Take off your clothes. ” Um, excuse me? He was unfolding his massage table. “You went for a 40 mile bike ride today. Wouldn’t you like a massage?” I left my panties on…

So. Yeah. Best seduction I’ve experienced in decades.

After my week in Santa Monica I headed up to Marin and then on to Gerlach for my summer job with Burning Man. The Lifeguard and I were texting and emailing and playing Words with Friends. Then one day…nothing. I sadly figured he’d met someone. “Maybe he got hit by lightning,” my mom said. What? No one ever gets hit by lightning in LA. My sister said the same thing. Then my friend said it too. “There was a big storm in LA.” I passed it off as an impossibility. Besides, he’d been in Maine, visiting his sister. Then, when a friend asked if I’d heard from him and I hung my head, she told me to tag a picture of a sunset or something to let him know I was thinking about him. “I hate it when people do that,” I said, but thought, hmmm, Facebook… We’d become “friends.” I went to his Facebook page and saw stuff like “Trying to get through to your hospital room” and “Saying a prayer for you!”

I texted him: “I saw on your Facebook page that you’re in the hospital. Are you okay?” In minutes I received a response: “This is his sister. He’s getting stronger every day. I’ll pass along your message.” I’d thought he was still in Maine so it didn’t surprise me that his sister responded for him. But I was worried.

A few days later he texted me. He WAS hit by lightning! A freak storm had descended upon Venice Beach and he was one of 13 people affected by the lightning strike. A 20-year-old guy had died. And, actually, so had The Lifeguard. He was out for a full 12 minutes! But it apparently wasn’t his time to go because a cardiac specialist had been on the beach, right where lifeguards had dragged his body, and that doctor didn’t give up on him. He was still in the hospital and had some recovering to do, but he was alive!


We kept in touch through the summer. I even sent him a shot of myself getting “zapped” by a big piece of art! Leave it to me to meet a really great guy and he gets hit by lightning! Stay tuned for Part Deux.

Another Published Piece!

My third piece is up on Gasm.org: Torn


Facts on Past Loves

Alec Baldwin is engaged. The man is 54. His fiancée is 28. Uh-huh.

Yes, I’m obsessed. Obsessed with AGE. Ageism. My age. Old age. The ages of the men who cruise me online who are my age but look so, so much older. And the men who’ve visited me at the bar, parking their asses in the punk rock surroundings and looking incredibly out of place. Oh. And my fear. My fear that there is simply no one out there who will save me from a lonely dotage.

But I refuse to succumb to this fate. I will continue to delude myself that there is, indeed, someone out there, regardless of age, who will appeal to me. Who I will appeal to. Someone with whom I’ll click. And fuck.

I’ve been trying to figure out if there are any similar traits in the many men I’ve managed to fall in love with. Height? Weight? Cock size? Hair color? I say I love great teeth but have any of these guys actually had great teeth? What really matters? Let’s have a look, shall we?

Age: Two years older than me.
Height: 5’11”
Build: Slender
Looks? Okay. Could be cute at moments.
Cock Size: Average, I guess…it was my first!
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Great Teeth? No
Most apparent personality trait: Somewhat nondescript.
What, if anything, did we have in common? Not much. He came from “the wrong side of the tracks” and didn’t have much ambition.
Circumstances of initial sexual encounter? I lost my virginity to him and he gave me my first orgasm.
Comments: He stayed in pretty much the same place his whole life and is still there now. He has more money (and property) than I do. Not sure if he’s still married. We were more a couple of convenience; since friends of ours got together it made sense for us to couple up as well.

Age: Same age as me.
Height: 6″1″
Build: Slender
Looks? Really cute.
Cock Size: Slightly above average, if I recall correctly, and also “slender.”
Hair Color: Dark Brown. And curly!
Eye Color: Blue
Great Teeth? Yes, if not perfect. A great smile!
Most apparent personality trait: Extremely gregarious. A male version of me.
What, if anything, did we have in common? At the time, everything. We lived in the same dorm, both born in May, same ages. Probably equal IQs and quick wits. Adventurous, partiers, loved to dress up, all around fun.
Circumstances of initial sexual encounter? I don’t really remember. We were both slutting around like crazy those first few months of college and were friends, first. After much note writing on each other’s white boards, we decided to take the relationship a step further. It was good, as I recall…
Comments: As is most of college, it’s a blur of booze and drugs and music and roommates and messy fights about stupid shit. But it was most definitely passionate.

Age: Two years younger? Three? Maybe even four…
Height: 5’8″
Build: Leaning toward future pudge but probably best described as average.
Looks? Model adorable!
Cock Size: Average
Hair Color: Light brown-to-blond
Eye Color: Blue-green
Great Teeth? Yes
Most apparent personality trait: Shy, studious, polite, a very “nice” guy.
What, if anything, did we have in common? Not much. He was friends with the guys who lived downstairs from me when I moved to Newport Beach. He slept with my sister first, surprisingly… He was still in college and I was working for Times Mirror Videotext, a totally 9-to-5’er and wanna be yuppie. We had a lot of romance.
Circumstances of initial sexual encounter? I think I seduced him! Seriously, he was so cute…and available.
Comments: We were really in two different places in our lives but we managed to make it work for a short while. He’s now a family counselor and happily married. Still a very nice guy.

Age: Four years younger, I think.
Height: 5’8″
Build: Average
Looks? Kinda cute.
Cock Size: Average
Hair Color: Dark Brown and Curly
Eye Color: Brown
Great Teeth? Definitely not.
Most apparent personality trait: Chatty, friendly.
What, if anything, did we have in common? Just about nothing. He worked nights in a local club, I worked days at NYPress (I think) and bartended two nights a week; we didn’t have all that much time together.
Circumstances of initial sexual encounter? I thought it was gonna be a one-night stand. Brought him home from the club and then…he called. We lived together for about two years. And went on some fun vacations.
Comments: This was definitely a case of taking what came along. Looking back, I can’t believe we lasted as long as we did. We really weren’t a very good match.

Age: Four years younger. Definitely.
Height: 5’9″
Build: Slender
Looks? Cute in ways.
Cock Size: Above average.
Hair Color: When I met him, he was dying it black and it was long. Natural color was a pale brown and curly once it got long-ish.
Eye Color: Pale blue
Great Teeth? Not perfect, but a great smile.
Most apparent personality trait: Shy, quiet. He had a very nice “way.” Serious. Very “German” in a work ethic-type way.
What, if anything, did we have in common? We had a lot in common. We were both writers, pornographers, fans and consumers of peculiar things…
Circumstances of initial sexual encounter? He was initially a one-night stand and that first night was…great. He called and we fucked like bandits for a long while, long past when we got married. The passion faded, as it often does, and attempts to rekindle it were largely unsuccessful.
Comments: Though the first seven years (?!?!) were wonderful, communication eventually deteriorated… It still makes me sad to think about it because he was the closest I’d ever come to a true “soul mate.” We were married, in the end, for 16 years, even if those last few were somewhat estranged. He is a great guy and I miss him.

Age; Eight years younger, I think…
Height: 6’1″
Build: Slender
Looks? Handsome
Cock Size: Above average, also “slender”?
Hair Color: Light Brown
Eye Color: Green/Grey/Hazel
Great Teeth? Yes
Most apparent personality trait: Gregarious, fun, partier, political, serious at times.
What, if anything, did we have in common? Well, we had (and still have) Burning Man in common, and often that’s enough.
Circumstances of initial sexual encounter? Oh my…there was just sooo much making out before any sex at all. SO MUCH making out! And the best ever. The sex, when it finally happened, was pretty damned great. Though the “forbidden” aspect probably contributed to that quite a bit.
Comments: Out of all these guys, he’s the only one I’m still close with. I sure do wish I could recapture the passion I had for him because he’s certainly handy!

Age: Twelve years younger. Fer sure.
Height: 6′
Build: Stocky
Looks? Handsome, in an odd way.
Cock Size: Above average, especially girth-wise.
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Great Teeth? Nope.
Most apparent personality trait: Quiet, brooding, cultivated an air of mystery. Smart.
What, if anything, did we have in common? We were both working DPW so it was Burning Man to the nth degree. It’s like a secret society or cult; once you’re a member, there’s a blood bond.
Circumstances of initial sexual encounter? We were wandering around during the event, dropped E and I dragged him back to my tent for a blowjob. Subsequent encounters were fucking amazing…to the degree that I found myself painfully obsessed. We would break up and be apart, only to re-couple. It was brutal. And unfortunately the best sex of my life. I’ll attribute much of that to experience…
Comments: Since the guy is a pathological liar it’s tough to say nice things from my current perspective. It was most definitely not a healthy relationship. But I loved him more than anyone ever will. Getting over him has been a horror. Thank heavens I feel mostly healed!

So what can I glean from this exercise? That great teeth aren’t a necessity. That the guy doesn’t need to be taller than me. Dark hair more than light…shy or serious, sorta inconsequential. And apparently it doesn’t even matter if we have anything in common. So what is it that makes for romance? Oh, if only I knew! If only anyone knew! There’d be no need for online dating sites or matchmakers or any of that crap! Collectively, we stumble blindly toward the light.

Still Scared Sexless?

Still riffing off the whole “alone, lonely, single, etc.” stuff…

I’ve been thinking a lot about how negative I am on dates. Why the hell am I going out with men only to turn my nose up at them the second I sit down? I know before I meet these guys that there isn’t any attraction. (At least in most instances.) Why am I harboring hope? Do I think there will be some magical spell cast as soon as we shake hands? That while their looks haven’t swayed my mind (or heart), their pheromones might influence my libido? Am I putting up walls? Preventing myself from liking them? Or even being attracted to them? Or are they just sad-sack old men who I couldn’t force myself to fuck, thereby condemning myself to eternal fuck-less-ness?

I haven’t felt inspired (which is a euphemism for turned on) by a man in ages. I test myself as I go about my day — riding the subway or walking down the street. Could I kiss that guy? Fuck that one? Hold hands, even? And I haven’t had much luck answering Yes. Have my loins simply become incapable of being stirred? In other words, is it more about me than the collective “they” that I’ve been dating?

And so I ask myself Am I afraid of having sex with someone new? Afraid that no one will find me desirable once I’ve taken off my clothes? Or is it even simpler? Am I afraid of loving someone again, since the last time was so disastrous? I want to believe I’m not scared. I want to believe it’s all possible. And just around the corner. Can I still be scared sexless? Shit. I sure as hell hope not.

(New readers may want to read one of my old posts, written back when I wasn’t quite so happy: Scared Sexless.)

Ooh, Pretty!

It occurred to me that I complain too much about the scary old men who visit my profiles. So I thought I’d take a more positive approach and mention the gorgeous young men who also appear to be attracted to me. If only to call me “mommy.” Hah. Okay, sorry.

This delectable little morsel is from Stockholm, Sweden. Which is lucky for him, because if he were closer, my resolve might…dissolve. He visits my profile on a regular basis. He is…20.

This somewhat moody-looking young man lives in Oslo, Norway. He is 28, though he looks more like 12. He makes me think…bad things. Again, lucky for him he’s far, far away!

This gentleman is considerably closer, both in age (47) and location (New York, NY). I felt compelled to include him here because the photo is…pretty. This guy is in danger of actually getting a date!

Day 20, January 30
1. No meditating.
2. 30 minutes of working out.
3. Blogged.
4. News.
5. Brought up the last few items from my storage space: ancient art, a few bags of stuffed animals that were destined to be a wacky costume project, a piece of stained glass. Mission accomplished. Now, to tackle the big storage locker!
6. Socializing: Jamye and I wrote and edited together, only partially in silence. Then I went on a date. When he had to go home and I had a buzz, I went to Double Down. None of this was all that social, in actuality.

A Two-Way Street

Love and online dating: both are definitely a two-way street situation. As it is in a crowded room, one person checks the other person out, sends a “flirt,” a wink or a smile, perhaps even an email. (Or, in the case of SeniorPeopleMeet, a flaming heart or whatever) The other person responds…or they don’t. If you follow my posts, it may often appear as though I’m a sitting duck (or chick, if you will), fielding flirtation from dozens of online suitors. I rarely tell you about the men I email who don’t respond. Somehow that just doesn’t seem quite as hilarious. Hah. Well, here are a few.

I sent this message to a guy in LA whose profile picture was of someone skateboarding at Burning Man.
Hey, you’re skateboarding at my friends’ camp! Sorry to bother you from afar…I’m always compelled to click on the playa pix…
He never responded.

A friend “recommended” this guy’s profile, thinking he’d be a good match for me. I checked him out; one of his pix was captioned “Sunday mornings are not pretty.” I thought it was a cute picture. I sent him this:
I disagree with your assessment of Sunday mornings. That shot is great! A friend told me to look you up on here…curious why that marshmallow robot hasn’t ever tossed you my way. Check out my profile and see if anything piques your interest.
No response.

This guy was both one of my “Quiver Matches” and of definite interest:
Hmmm, I think I can say yes to all of your “You should message me if”s… 
The marshmallow robot has put you in my Quiver and suggested I send you a lovely email. Dunno how lovely this is…your “responds selectively” is preventing me from spinning a lengthy yarn. But I thought I’d drop you a line and see if you’d be up for a beer or something. I’ve noticed that you’ve visited my profile…not sure if that means you aren’t interested or shy. Which is it, Sir Cutup? Enjoy this sunny Thursday! 
And again, no response.

I can only conjecture why men don’t respond. They aren’t interested is the obvious one. Maybe they’ve met someone. Or are simply too busy. OKCupid has a feature that tells you how often people respond: Often, Selectively or Rarely. I respond to every guy who emails me, regardless of how rude or ridiculous, age or geographically inappropriate. I try not to mislead — or lead on — anyone. If I’m not interested, I do my best to let them know politely and gently, often with “Best of luck in your search,” which I believe sounds rather final. Of course, even when I’ve been pushed to say something as definitive as “There is no way there would ever be any romance between us,” some men manage to maintain optimism.

Meeting someone online — and subsequently in person — is a crapshoot and, in a way, a miracle. Two strangers synch up their schedules, suspend their cynicism and mistrust and put themselves in the same room…it takes a lot of…what? Faith? Hope? Both, and yes, optimism. Sometimes I find it difficult to believe that it even happens. And I do it all the time!

Whether I’m turning someone down or being the one (silently) turned down, I do my best to keep hoping.

Really Shiny!

Today I’m finally feeling the cold I’ve been fighting off. I ran around a lot with a hangover from last night’s soiree. I kinda can’t believe I’ve been able to stay healthy this far, given all the partying and the running around! Over the past week, I’ve had two house guests and SantaConned seven miles with thousands of other Santas. I’ve rock ‘n’ rolled and museumed, entertained and been entertained. I’ve visited my cousin in her new apartment (gorgeous and homey!), hung out with my sister and her kids and my cousin-from-the-other-side, his wife, his daughter and her boyfriend. Tea at Lady Mendl’s for 11. Whew!

I’ve even signed onto yet another dating site. Nerve Dating is in “beta” and I’m already on board. They were the hot spot back in the day, happy hook ups long before Match.com was matching or eHarmony was eHarmonizing. I don’t know why they got out of the game but they’re back in now and I’m in, too. Thus far I’ve fielded flirtations from a 58-year-old who’s about as appealing as strep throat and a 31-year-old who’s cute but, well, young. I’m still hoping there’s one guy out there close to my age who doesn’t look 100, isn’t interested in 20-somethings and is up for falling in love with someone like…me. In the meantime, I leave you with my latest hilarity from OKCupid:

hi honey how are you.im young man but i love old woman. if you have time for some fun. im ready now. just tell me baby

My response:

Do you speak English? If you’re interested in older women you shouldn’t call them old. It’s offensive. And I’m not interested in men that young! Have fun!

And his to mine:

😦 my english is to bad im new this country 😦 
im sorry babe im totally fuck it up 😦 
can i compensate this mistake 😦 
you are really shiny im sorry again and again

I could NOT stop laughing! I’m shiny? Shiny! That’s gonna be my new word!