My friend, Frank, is always telling about how many women contact him on various on line dating sites, and how many he actually meets. Being the old married man that I am, it’s easy to live vicariously through him. All names have been changed to protect the guilty and innocent.
Frank is 57, with a shaved head and a goatee. He’s a funny guy with a biting sense of humour, which is one reason we get along so well. His main hobby is photography, whether it is taking beautiful outdoor shots or what he calls boudoir photography.
I call it taking nude photos of good looking women who pay him to do it. Not a bad gig if you can get it. I have offered to hold the lights or whatever next time he has an indoor shoot. Frank says get in line for all the others who have asked the same thing.
Anyway, he tells me there are more on line dating sites out there than we can count, which is why he keeps his profile short and to the point. He likes women within 10 years below his age, preferably without kids that take a lot of mom's time and energy; fairly good looking, with a nice shape, but not fat. Unlike most men, who go for big boobs, since Frank has seen so many boobs, in his photography work, it's not a major concern.
One thing that Frank told me that truly blew my mind is how horny these women truly are; how quickly they are willing to have sex with a man they just met. One story that was truly unbelievable is about Sandy, who contacted him first. They started chatting, which turned into hours on the phone and, then, finally meeting. All this happened in the space of a couple of days.
Sandy invited Frank over. They’re talking on the couch. Next thing he knows, she’s on his lap, undressing them both and they're going at it like two rabbits.
When I see him at work, he’s happy, on cloud nine, saying he’s maybe found "the one." Naturally, it’s my job to bring him back to the ground. I tell him to stop listening to the little head and listen to the big head.
He just gives me that smile of man who just had great sex and can’t wait to have more. I warn him to take it slow. Otherwise, he won’t be able to build a solid relationship.
A couple of weeks go by and all I’m hearing about is the great sex. Then all of a sudden, it stops. He’s finding faults with her that most mortal men wouldn’t care about if they’re having great sex. But Frank is way too picky for his own good and things with Sandy quickly burn out.
What follows is a string of first and second dates that one way or another culminates in some sort of physical contact, none of which Frank seems to find satisfying enough to have a third date. I keep telling him he’s too picky and just find that one woman that meets most of his criteria. Finally, Frank meets Chloe, who it turns out is, wait for it, horny and has sex on the second or third date.
Chloe is different. Frank has found "the one." It also turns out that she’s open to new ideas and they get into the swinging lifestyle, which Frank has always wanted to do on a regular basis. There are a couple of road hazards with Chloe, which include two teenage kids and a good for nothing ex-husband.
Things move on for about a year, when everything at once goes wrong. Chloe has a disease, which Frank knew about from the beginning. Now her physical health is getting worse, one of the kids is having psychological issues and they aren’t spending anytime together, alone.
Texts go flying across their phones, along with some voice mails and talks, but this relationship can’t be salvaged. Frank will just have to go back onto all those dating sites and once again start having random sex.
What’s wrong with this picture?
Matt Seinberg lives on Long Island, a few minutes east of New York City. He looks at everything around him and notices much. Somewhat less cynical than dyed in the wool New Yorkers, Seinberg believes those who don't see what he does like reading about what he sees and what it means to him. Seinberg columns revel in the silly little things of life and laughter as well as much well-directed anger at inept, foolish public officials. Mostly, Seinberg writes for those who laugh easily at their own foibles as well as those of others.
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