Maybe it was my date last Wednesday with the big-handed man with the rock-climbing chest, from San Francisco, in town for a family wedding, intrigued at the idea of meeting an "elder" (his words!) woman. Which, even though I was prepared for a one-shot outing, nonetheless left my soul in a black-hole as it ended .... realizing, perhaps, that one-shot outings officially depress me.
Maybe, finally, it was the message at 1:48 a.m. on Monday, the sender (age 21) from East Weymouth, MA, whose photo looks vaguely like a senior picture, crew neck sweater and all, with no preamble or introduction:
"Would you have sex with me?"Sigh.
And thus, yesterday, after 9 months on the OKC, I removed 2 items from my profile:
1) any reference to strong hands; and
2) as far as "what I'm looking for," my acquiescence for casual dating, replacing it with the scintillating
3) "I spend a lot of time thinking about: being 36 and unmarried and the delicious pros and occasional cons of such a status. "
Hopefully, insinuating some taste for wild streak in a man's character but removing any chance that I am advertising myself as a sex toy for college students.
Who knows. Maybe I'll still get hellos from those in the youth movement who appreciate girls with strong calves. Such inquiries have always amused me and, by toning things down, I must admit a twinge of sadness to becoming slightly more staid.
Oh well. It's only "slightly," right?
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