Monthly Archives: January 2014


Red Zone

I found an earlier question from a 20-something-year old guy regarding my abilities at blow jobs obnoxious, and it led to learning about age filters. I deleted and blocked him and chalked it up to his age… 20-something-year-olds are not necessarily known for finesse in social settings… add the internet anonymity, and obnoxious is to be expected.

Today, I received a message with the subject: “Cool couple here. Consider trying us.” I deleted and blocked, but the photo showed a forty-something-year-old man. There is no filter for this. :/


A Wave of Daves

Red Zone

Dave? David? Dave? David?

That was my week..   I thought the most popular name for a man remained John; I did meet a Jack a the end of the week, and Jack is a derivative of John, so … I made one accurate guess.  I know that one week is a small sample; however, based on my first week of “dating” a common name is Dave or David. I was confused all week, yet I knew it was impolite to ask…“Now which Dave are you? The engineer? The water engineer? The business owner? the wait for it… engineer?”  Very confusing! Apparently engineer is also a popular career for men on dating websites.

Dave/David 1 smiled and chatted but maintained an icy aloof. (sigh… why did I agree to dinner? Meet and greets are far better.)

Dave/David 2 was NOT at all like his photos… and I’m shallow enough to care. (Dante’s circles are calling.) I kind of ran quickly away from that meeting.

Dave/David 3: Winner. This Dave (I remembered) held his own in a conversation, was obviously fit, and liked good food and beer. I was interested, and this time glad I had agreed to dinner. But there was no follow-up call or text… so clearly he was not interested.

Dave/David 4 was a meet and greet at MacArthur Mall. I had to be there anyway, so it worked out well for me. I didn’t shake hands and run this time, but I made the meeting very quick. He lied about his height. I can’t judge height very well, but in heels, I am about 5’5”; he claimed to be 5’10”, but he was barely taller than I am in heels.

And then there was Jack. We wandered around Barnes and Noble as we discussed what we like to read. I enjoyed our mutual chatter, and the intellectual bent his mind took. I added him as a friend on Words With Friends… clearly … this is officially friendship.  J

I wish I could add photos here…. However, that would bring me to a lower circle of hell… so no photos…. At least not yet.

Butt Dial

His online profile stated up front he was 28, but that he definitely preferred “mature” women. After talking on the phone for a few days, Steel Blue was tempted to meet him to see if he really was as socially acceptable as he sounded.

We met at a local club with 3 different areas so we could accommodate any musical preference. Our favorite was by far the “booty-shaking” music with the colored lights, a heavy bass beat, and music videos on the big screen. The first set was innocuous, and we enjoyed pleasant conversation while we marched to our own drummers. After the first set, I started listening and feeling the music. As he already had a sense of rhythm, we fell into a more synchronous dance with every song.

I learned a version of twerking I didn’t know existed. He swayed behind me keeping me in rhythm with the song. It was an odd form of leading but very effective. I could predict his next move pretty well by this time, that was until he moved in. I realized one of the big differences between him and the 38 – 48 year olds I was accustomed to dating: hard body. Not just parts, but the whole thing. I realized our relationship had moved to the next level. 😉 This was no longer dancing; it was foreplay. Parts of our bodies touched with each move; the back of my shoulders touched his chest. My butt hit his thighs. His knees touched the back of my legs. Occasionally he would barely place a hand on my waist, so we could feel the grind. Twerking be damned, this was the most sensuous dancing I’d done in 15 years!

Now an hour ago when he moved to dance behind me, I didn’t think anything of it. My phone was in my back pocket. Now do you see where this is going? As the dance heated up, other parts paid attention. The next thing I felt was my phone vibrating in my back pocket. My mom wanted to know why I kept calling her. My hard-bodied 28 year old “butt-dialed” my mom in the middle of our jam. To say the spell was broken is a misnomer. I quickly apologized and told mom I’d talk to her tomorrow. We laughed hysterically and went to get a drink. 


Hello Gentle Reader, Steel Blue  here, and I’m not a policewoman. Lots of play in those words. One of my resolutions this year is a second round of online dating. I don’t think I’m cut out for online dating, but it seems to be the rage. How do you stay attentive behind a computer or phone screen?

Let the dating begin

Red Zone

After weeks of discussing it, Steel Blue and I decided to go for it and try for 52 dates in 52 weeks. Over the holidays, we set up or refreshed free online dating accounts and set up one paid account a piece. Plenty of Fish and OkCupid are the two free dating sites; although, both have paid options. For instance, in the paid version, OkCupid allows users to search based on attractiveness. I initially liked that idea, but think about it… Who is judging attractiveness? Couldn’t someone have his friends stack the deck for him. Heck, the accounts are free; he could set up several accounts to call himself attractive. The only requirement for a free account is an email address. Who among us doesn’t have multiple email accounts? I digress. Eharmony and Match are the two paid sites we selected.

Today, three days into this adventure, here’s what I have learned: men are also using multiple sites. 😉 who knew? So now I need a free AshleyMadison account to check whether my contacts are actually cheating spouses, right? Another lesson learned: women, even those without photos receive a lot of initial messages or other attention. Winks, flirts, and messages arrived aplenty while I had no photo posted. Photos, even tiny shots that show me as a piece of background, received a shit-ton of responses. I cannot imagine a number of messages beautiful young women receive!  So how does one weed through this mess?  Filters, that’s how.

There’s a filter for age: To the 26-year-old who texted me to say we’d make a good fit and asked what I did in my spare time, my son suggested I answer: “I like to hang out with my son, who is almost your age… hey. Wait! Haven’t I seen you at my house?”  And for the red-faced, obese, surely septuagenarian?  “Dude! I’m not taking care of you as your health declines.” 

Then I set the ethnicity filter to only white and Hispanic. I still received too many emails, so adios muchachos… I filtered for only white people.

Then I was left with screening for other basics: fit, good-looking (I’m shallow, OK?!?!), intelligent, and with a career vs. a job. I prefer college-educated, so that was next.

How did I judge intelligence you ask, well, as an initial filter grammar, of course. Gentle reader, did you know that some men do not like being told they were rejected for grammar? The response: a hate message from a man whose initial contact was, “U got pix?” I ignored several emails until the last, in which he asked in a manner I took to be sincere, “Why didn’t I measure up? What was missing in my profile?” My response was that his profile had several grammar errors that were a bit off-putting. He was disgruntled enough to tell me I wasn’t that attractive anyway, followed with, “U don’t look all that like u spend time in the gym.” Did he omit a word? Did he mean “all that?” I don’t know, but I blocked him anyway. Can you imagine the type of person this guy is?

So, Gentle Reader, I am done for today. No dates yet, but despite the obnoxious louts, there appear to be a few interesting, intelligent, funny men out there, so cross your fingers, and I might still wrangle a date out of this week. If not, have faith in Steel Blue.