Not an easy thing, trying to date at the age of 53. Especially when you've been out of the game for 20+ years. You'd think there'd be 53 year old women out there waiting for 53 year old stud-muffins like me. Maybe not a stud-muffin, more like a three day old donut that's been sittin' on the counter, crusty but available and looking for a bite.
Looking for a bite, tried trolling for a while. Now just still fishin', enjoying some quiet time, but still hoping for a nibble.
It's the 'Uncle Orville' syndrome. Unc never married and when we asked him why he'd just say "I only get married on weekends!" Orville's 'getting married' to him just meant the honeymoon. He did get to honeymoon quite a bit. Dashing South Dakota farmer that he was, he had no problem finding a weekend match.
Maybe I need some bib overalls with a sign that reads 'One night stand'. Would I like more than one night? Yes, if that unlikely match exists. For my remaining 50 years, provided I live till 103, I'd certainly need a gal with an enormous sense of humor, one that lends itself to her choice of music. If we could cook together while Prairie Home Companion plays from the under-the-counter kitchen radio, that would work good, too.
She might be out there, kinda like that star in the sky I never noticed before.
I'm ready for Iron Ore Betty!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Give credit where credit is due. Do not sell yourself short, Rumbleshorts! You are not old and you most certainly are not an old fart!
ReplyDelete