Senior-online dating was not what I expected. I was disillusioned with the entire process. I’d had enough suitors who didn’t include photographs with their profiles. (Delete!) I’d had enough of the 70-year-old men who still wanted to have kids. (Delete!) I was fed up with the idiots who couldn’t write a correct sentence let alone spell. (Delete!) And worst of all, I’d received a number of security emails from Single Seniors that advised me about questionable members. They wrote something like– Our team is currently investigating a user that has been in contact with you – Rock Hard, 72, from Alaska. If you have communicated with Rock Hard, we hope you have not given him any of your banking information or passwords.  

That, my friends insinuates that I am an idiot.  Would I communicate with someone who called himself Rock Hard?  No.  Would I bother with someone who lived in Alaska?  No. Would I give a stranger personal information?  Hell, no!  So, what was I doing on this dating website?

I would have terminated my membership, however, I’m somewhat cheap and I’d paid for three months. So, I plodded along, deleting anyone and everyone until one younger man came along who gave me pause.  His name was Matthew and he was 61.  He sent me a smiley face on April 4 at 10 p.m.  I didn’t see his message until 8 a.m. April 5. Uh oh, I thought.  He may think I’m uninterested. It’s been ten hours. I clicked on his photo to bring up his profile and to my utter delight and surprise,  Matthew had a Master’s degree. There was a photo on his profile page showing a nice-looking man, possibly Irish, with a genuine smile and mischievous eyes. His bio said he lived in Paterson. I went to college with someone from Paterson, New Jersey.  A bit far, but what the heck? There weren’t any other fish biting closer to Connecticut. Did I mention he was younger than I? Oh—yes, I did. But I’ll repeat that again. Those sorts of things are good for my ego. I took the bold step of sending one of my own smiley faces right back to Matthew in Paterson. 

I waited one minute. There was no response. Being the impatient person that I am, I followed up with a message. “How’s  life under quarantine in Paterson?” 

At 10:30 a.m. after an agonizing two hours of thinking I’d missed the boat, I heard from Matthew.  He wrote, “Good Morning. Life in Bergen County is very quiet. We are all instructed to work from home so I have cabin fever. How about you?”

Bergen County?  Paterson isn’t in Bergen County. What’s happening here?  

“What do you mean, Bergen County?” I replied. Your profile indicates you live in Paterson, NJ. I hit that send button with a thunk.

“I’m just leery of social media,” he responded.

“So that isn’t your picture?” I asked.

“Yes, that’s me,” he replied.  I was dumbfounded.

“So you’ll post your photo but not the town you live in?  Do you think people that know you will think you have a doppelganger in a different New Jersey city?” 

“I can explain” he wrote.  “Can we just talk?”  Matthew asked me to give him my phone number. 

“I promise I can explain everything,” he said.  So I gave him the phone number for my cell phone. That phone is registered to my workplace. I could always block his calls if things got weird.

Within moments a text came through on my cell phone.  “Hey, Mimi. It’s me. Philip.  Is now a good time to call?”

Who the hell is Philip?

One has to agree, it can only get better……right?

© Miriam Greenberg, and the blog Love In The Time Of Corona, beginning April 2022 to the Present. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Miriam Greenberg and Love In The Time Of Corona with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.