Pot sitters

On my way to bed a short time ago, I remembered hadn't yet done my physical therapy stretches. This takes about 20 minutes and I'm tired. But I need the plantar fasciitis to go away. (Hey, I know. We all need it go away, so I might stop writing about my feet.)

Hmmm. I'm online trolling about, to occupy my brain during these ankle contortions and rolling of golf ball with heel. Midnight is a productive hour to be on Match.com....it's busy! After all, you wouldn't be on match if you had a significant other to either be awake or asleep with. Lots of viewings. And historically, many of the more creative messages (anyone remember MRothko35?) have popped up about this hour.

So who has reappeared, but the Guy from Hartford. Fairly smitten in his prose, but who hasn't gotten back since my last e-mail to him....on June 13. His silence thus far had persuaded me to give him--and the idea of anything long distance--the heave-ho.

And, Mr. 22 from North Carolina hovers on the perimeter. You must recall from mid-June....

Mr. 22: "You're a very sexy women (sic)...."

Now I must confess to some intrigue at his boldness. And the part of his profile that said "I am an energetic, socially active and liberal university student." Scruffy beard, talent for photography, obsession with BMWs. All eventually endearing enough; I wrote back a few days later, for the hell of it, to wit:

K: "What's with the venture out of age range, young man?"

Inviting him to interpret me as a) creepy, b) sassy, c) or the cynical 35-year-old he hoped I wasn't. Maybe he hasn't yet recovered from me actually replying. I wouldn't know, because he hasn't come back with anything more. Yet he checks me out....for the second time in the last three days.

These men have messages in their inboxes that they do not answer. But they keep looking from afar. They are 20 years apart in age but act like identical teenagers scouting at the homecoming dance.

It is not my turn to write.

When are they going to either use the pot or get off it?