On Line Senior Dating Adventures During COVID
The Mystery of the Multiple Michaels.
COVID isolation drove me to this conundrum of excess Michaels in my life. The tracking and monitoring of this tribe overwhelmed me. Spread sheeting men — Please! I’m over seventy, outlived Excel, or is it still the best on the market to handle data stats today?
Rounding up this personal herd of Michaels took time, energy, and bucks. It created anxiety, fear, more questions than answers.
My COVID adventure into the dating site, from here forward known as The Site, specializes in pairing us older folks. Yep, I decided to hunt for a great man. Why? Well, we might describe my previous attempts over my seven decades as borderline acceptable. Well, I’m flattering myself and them. Onward.
I watched Fauci announce, Trump lie, Cuomo do his cozy touchy feely chats. I ate more Goldfish, drank my share of California Chardonnay, and continued my hunt in the world of older men. The investment into The Site passed from one entertainment budget to another as I left news’ feeds and entered dating world. And wow my attitude improved!
Men throughout the world received my pix at the top of their screen that early morning mid-December. My mailbox flooded with interest and messages. OMG, I’m so popular, I thought. Men as far away as Iowa hit on me. Yes, older men glare and pant, the best they can. The operation nuances such as deleting, messaging, or skips remained elusive. The men piled up.
The “matched” poured in every morning. The “new” men appeared first. La Crema. Fresh. I think I paid extra to get a peek at those. Men arrived with or missing photos: men with snazzy red Corvettes, men with arms around women, men wearing cowboy hats holding beers, men in navy uniforms, too many pony-tailed men on motorcycles, and finally, men who needed more clothing on their drooping pale selves.
Michael number one, Airplane Michael, showed up day three, photo in a WW11 flight jacket. His message indicated piloting was his hobby, and this two-engine his latest plane. He offered to fly me down to Miami for a seaside dinner. My radar indicated warning, warning scammer. As of today, I don’t know if Michael number one had truths or lies up his tattered leather jacket sleeves. I didn’t yet trust myself to explore. Maybe I missed out?
The same week interested Michael number two, The Hebrew, (please do not take offense) wanted to meet up. He lived twenty miles west of me, maybe thirty-five minutes. Not bad. My bestie warned about scams. Had fears of me meeting him so soon. His messages sounded professional, his English great, plus he had a sense of humor in his writings. Click. We didn’t talk on the phone prior to the meetup. Poor decision. They reveal much in a chat. Never meet without a chat. But I did. He wanted to meet right away, so I chose the spot, a public parking lot. We would talk and go to lunch if things worked out.
I parked in the last row of the large parking lot near a main street and watched (spied) and waited for someone resembling his photo. A gorgeous silver Lexus coup circled the lot slowly, parked, straddled the white line. Spencer Tracey, I swear, from The Old Man and the Sea exited the car, cane in hand. He was past the needing a shave point and the hair’s cleanliness questionable. I approached him. We sat on a nearby bench. His teeth had a mind of their own, uppers sliding forward between sentences. I could not stop staring. But wow, he was smart; he liked me; he bought me a great lunch.
He did not pry. No questions about my finances. Legit man. Nice car, but no chemistry and his activity level, not what I had hoped. And I could not get past the wiggling teeth. Another gal, yes multitudes, would grab that limping nice guy and take off in the Lexus. This meetup was a successful first date on The Site, I would say now, after seven months’ adventures. Today I consider this my practice first date. Gold star one awarded for courage.
“So how many Michaels are too many?” My bestie asked a couple months into my adventure and post vaccination celebrations. We toasted our freedom, and I updated her on the hunt that mid-February day in central Florida. After two wines, we agreed my search needed a more relaxed attitude and direction.
Michael number three appeared the very next day — gorgeous, younger, within thirty miles, and perfectly matched to me personality wise. Yes, The Site does that as well. I dropped him a smile showing I’m here, possibly drooling, interested. I heard back that evening with a flowing two-page message about having limited time left on The Site and wanting to contact me immediately. What gave him away — his flowery, feminine, correct English. My first scammer, Michael number three. I learned how to delete and report. The powers that be removed (expelled) him from The Site the next day. So, I pegged one and bragged to bestie. Gold star two awarded for investigative prowess.
Michael sagas continued with Michael number four. He turned out to be a duplicate of Michael number three, with a new photo, same profile. Cut and paste? Scammer two apprehended. My labeling of the men broadened. Scammer one and Scammer two positioned into my spreadsheet.
Michael number five. Well, I hesitated for sure. He appeared in my matches a week later. Turns out he was probably legit, but I put this poor man through an investigation he swore he’d never seen, and I wore him out, easy at age seventy. He became suspicious of me and accused me of scamming. We settled that, but I ruined my chances. He put me in the “crazed” category of women. Accurate description at that point. He probably awarded himself a medal. Label: Exhausted Michael.
I’m on Michael number nineteen now. What is it with all the Michaels being matched to me? Maybe the Michaels got excluded from the draft and missed Viet Nam? I’ve met a few Nam vets, and that’s a sad chapter in this search. Maybe it’s such a universal name and similar in many languages, so scammers grab it? I’m still trying to figure this one out among tons of other things.
Tally: nineteen total matches, five scammers, twelve smiles, one message, one date. By the way, from 1954–2008, Michael earned the most popular name award in the U.S. Why you ask? After a quick Google search I discovered Michael is of Hebrew origin and means “who is like God” or “made from God.” What mom wouldn’t want one of those?