A View From Robin's Nest
Reading Between the Lines
Slim Pickings
Robin Hoselton
One day I found myself wishing for a companion to share my delight while wandering around a flea market. Since pulling weeds in the backyard isn’t conducive to meeting a potential playmate, I became proactive and began delving into online senior dating sites.
It astounded me that so many other older people are also looking for a partner. After scanning a few dozen matches, I quickly learned how to read between the lines of their profiles.
For Instance: “I want a beautiful, sexy woman who isn’t afraid to show physical affection.” This translates to a shallow jerk whose brain is below his belt.
“I don’t have a photo of myself.” Not everyone has a digital camera, but if he’s serious, he could find someone to post a pic for him. More likely, he’s a Cyclops or married or has something to hide.
“I’m a couple of pounds overweight and mainly like to watch TV,” equals morbidly obese sofa spud. No thanks.
“Age doesn’t matter.” This is by a 37-year old so it’s a sure sign he’s looking for a sugar mama.
“Distance 
is no problem. I can move anywhere in a minute.” I explicitly stated no out-of-state replies. These messages mean they have no assets (house, furniture, business, pets…). I don’t need any leeches on my skimpy Social Security.
“I’m just an average guy looking for someone.” Is this supposed to intrigue me? It tells me nothing. I could have a better conversation with a rock.
“My adult son and I are looking for a good woman to take care of us.” Well, good luck, buster. I’d like a maid and mother, too.
“I’m looking for a woman to travel in my RV,” (or go on a cruise). What part of two dogs and two cats in my profile didn’t he understand? Am I expected to stash my paw pals in a kennel in order to endure tiny living quarters myself?
“I smoke socially.” Huh? Tobacco is addictive so does he want me to believe that he brings out his cigarettes only at parties? Weird.
“I ain’t good at writing so lets me and you git on the phone.” Well, I ain’t good at giving my telephone number to anyone who didn’t pass sixth-grade English.”
“One of my hobbies is hunting so I want a partner who likes camping.” He should contact Sarah Palin. She likes to kill animals, too.
“I’m good-looking and quite a catch for some lucky woman.” Maybe he was in 1980, but he hasn’t looked in a mirror lately to see his beer belly, age-splotched skin, and sagging jowls. Looks aren’t so important, but who needs an inflated ego.
After discarding these and similar candidates, I’m left with slim pickings. Perhaps I’m too choosy but I’m unwilling to compromise.
Further reflection leads me to the conclusion that attending a flea market alone isn’t such a bad thing. Especially, when I found the perfect tee shirt, it says: “The more I know of men, the more I love my dog.”