I am so glad you contacted me. I’ve been on Match.com for a few months, but no one was responding to my emails. I thought I’d done everything right. I posted recent, non-blurry, full-length photos of myself. I used words like "lustful" and "double-jointed," in my profile. But I wasn’t meeting anyone. Then, just as I was ready to give up hope, you waltzed into my life and enthralled me with your old-fashioned phrases and perfectly straight smile. I feel like the luckiest woman alive.
Your thoughtful message brought tears to my eyes—especially the part about how your heart stopped when you saw my profile. You’ve shown me that my chance at love hasn’t died yet and that a real connection doesn’t always come quickly. Sometimes, it moves slower. So, thank you.
I’m flattered you think I could be that special lady you’ve been searching for to share the last few decades of your life. There are many 30-something women on Match.com, but you picked me. What impresses me most is that you didn’t let the fact that I’m seeking men between the ages of 29 and 42 stop you. You certainly are determined. I’m so relieved you knew better than to join those sites with "Senior" or "Golden" in the title! The old adage must be true—with age comes wisdom.
When I read your email, it was like being immersed in poetry and inspirational quotes. Your words were so lovely, they reminded me of Keats. Or… have you heard of Successories posters? I immediately viewed your profile. From your affinity for fly fishing to your affirmation that "just because there’s snow on the mountain doesn’t mean there’s no fire below," you sound exactly like what I’m looking for in a companion.
And we seem to have a number of things in common. We both like dogs, horses and fish, as well as hobbies and crafts. We both love life. You love it so much that you put it in your profile name. You are passionate, and I love to drink. Even our differences complement each other. You have difficulty hearing. I like to go to shows. We could see my favorite bands—Muse, The Black Keys—and you wouldn’t be bothered by the noise. You mentioned you like Roy Acuff, so I assume you’re a music fan.
Your photos are cute, as well—especially the one of you in the yellow tracksuit, getting ready to blow out your birthday candles. So many were aglow, I could see the white hair coming out of your nose! Maybe next time, I could trim it for you so there’s no risk of fire. I also liked your “All My Grandchildren” collage—with your picture in the center, surrounded by photos of your grandchildren. Some of them look like they might even be in college. You must be so proud.
There’s also the one of you in your bicycle shorts. It looks like you’re in really good shape. I must say it’s impressive that you’re so physically active, despite your hip replacement surgery. I guess you can’t keep an old dog down! Well, you know what I mean.
After perusing your entire profile, I thought you should know that you come across as a very calming, nurturing man—almost grandfatherly. But not really, because that would be weird, wouldn’t it? We see eye-to-eye on many things—like technology, for instance. It’s refreshing that you don’t feel the need to pick up the latest electronic devices. Gadgets like heart rate monitors and mobility scooters seem so unnecessary. I’m just happy you had a computer with Internet access.
I could go on and on about you. But time is precious—for you, anyway. So, to answer your question, yes, I would love to meet up with you for dinner at 4 pm. Perhaps, we could enjoy a cocktail or some vodka-spiked Ensure afterward. Just the thought of hanging out with someone born during the invention of the Frisbee intrigues me. I look forward to gazing into your cloudy blue eyes and hearing your stories of simpler times!
Michelle Spencer is a writer, music addict, vodka savant, cheese lover and occasional DJ who lives in Los Angeles.