Reluctantly disclosed by a long-divorced Left Coast lady. The lowest line here is that it's a very good thing I believe we're never too old to learn. And You great believe it too. Else we're all awash in deep doodoo! But wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. Or of the story that's due to unfold...
You might say I was among the expand guard of the "Personals" era. I began scouting for inherent partners when all there was was a skinny column in the daily newspaper or the weekly alternative. When you phrased your attributes and your wants within a exact 25-word parameter. Or else you paid extra. And there were no photos to eye. Ah but later in improvement of the movement there were voices to hear and the provider often offered the ability to cruise straight through all the many voice messages - at a rate of possibly a minute. So that recipe wasn't for the frugal, a group to which I belonged. So I would scout a few possibles and circle the ads, being just not to obliterate their identifying numbers. Then I would listen to each voice message and if the words or the manner or the tone was somehow pleasing, I would speak, referring to my identifying number. This was the forerunner of today's electronic wink/flirt/smile. But I'm skipping ahead...
After the change of a few identifying words whether the process halted due to disinterest on one or both sides. Or now came longer phone conversations and eventual meeting - that prominent first date. Of procedure my ad received its share of winks but it soon became apparent that those who sought me out were rarely the ones I would choose. This painful discovery was made over and over again: When the network-on-call guy spent 90% of our first meeting at a good bistro away on his cell dealing with problems at the office. When the 3-piece suiter spoke exactly 10 words while our meeting at a local cocktail lounge. And again when He turned out to be a real-life dwarf.
