So, I’ve agonised over my profile, downloaded some half-decent photographs, been approved by the web site’s administrator and am now sat in front of the screen, eagerly waiting to receive my first missive from Mr Right. Of course, his first contact might be tentative (this could be his first time) so he might just save me to his ‘favourites’ first, hoping that I’ll feel the same and ‘favourite’ him back and then……. Oh, who am I kidding? It’s probably going to be the Freddie Kruger weirdy guy with a comb-over and a penchant for argyle sweaters who lists his only hobby as model power boat racing and is equally happy “staying in or going out” who is the only person to contact me on this internet dating site. And what does “likes staying in or going out” mean in real terms anyway? Is he is trying to subtly indicate that he is neither claustrophobic nor agoraphobic? Or is it internet dating site secret code for something altogether more deviant?
Ten minutes later and I’m still waiting for the first contact. I imagine this is how Captain Kirk must have felt on his first mission – a sense of excited anticipation crossed with a fear of the unknown, and possibly Klingons.
Twenty minutes later and I’m starting to doubt the content of my self-penned profile. Did I over-emphasise the ‘independent woman’ thing? I’m sure I read somewhere that men like a confident woman; but maybe I just imagined that. Perhaps all the single men in their mid-forties are more interested in women in their late-twenties; but maybe that’s just my insecurity. What I do know for certain is, I Would Like To Meet a Straight Single Male with a Great Sense Of Humour.
My profile tells of what I like to do in my spare time, gives a brief outline of the type of work I do, describes where I’ve travelled to, what I’m looking for in a partner and what my perfect holiday would be. I’ve ticked boxes to indicate I’d prefer a non smoker, a liberal thinker and am open to meeting someone who has children. There’s nothing too specific or demanding to frighten anyone away (I hope), but I am starting to think it might be a bit….well, bland. And maybe not quite honest enough.
THINGS I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE WRITTEN IN MY PROFILE:
- I’m 44 (I’m not, but can just about get away with this), looking for a man, 42 – 49. Absolutely no Old Codgers please. If you feel the need to insist you are “young for your age” well, call me judgemental, but I’ve met you before and more than likely you dress like my Dad and dance like him too. Equally I’m not interested in much younger men (any more) as I’m here looking for a potential life partner so it’s important we have the same points of reference – if I was reminiscing about Flying Saucers and Fruit Salads, I’d like to think you’d know I wasn’t talking about alien conspiracy theories and trifle ingredients.
- I don’t mind if you’re as bald as a coot or have ‘because-you’re-worth-it’ flowing tresses, just as long as its not one of those string-like excuses for a ponytail clinging limpet-like onto the back of your head in a Francis Rossi way.
- Don’t get the wrong idea about the bikini shot. It doesn’t mean I want to have sex with you. It’s just to emphasise that I’ve taken care with my health, diet and fitness and I don’t want any old Barney Rubble with a dickey heart turning up. Even if you’re stonking rich.
- Please take note of my age, and seriously consider the likelihood of you ever wanting children. Even if you are Mr Right-material it wouldn’t be fair if, five years down the line, you wake up one morning suddenly realising you want kids and leave me for a fertile 30 year-old.
It’s now thirty minutes later and I’m starting to think this was all a waste of….ooh, hang on a minute, I’ve just been favourited! Got to go, it might be Mr Right.