September of Our Years

“Please don’t think I’m silly, or even foolish when I tell you this, but after being divorced for five years, I simply had to try it. I’m an educated woman, just turned 55, which, as you know, I’m not entirely comfortable revealing. But there it is, 55.”

 “Deena, we’re the same age, remember?” Joyce said. Longtime friends, the women were on the phone early one Saturday morning.

 “But you don’t make your age a matter of public record, Joyce. Anyway, my children are out of the house. Did I say house? I live in a tiny condo now with a reserved, outdoor parking space.

 “I know. I live across the street, remember?”

 “With Bill,” Deena said. “I’m tired of scraping the ice off the windshield of my old Sentra, like I just did again this morning. That alone is almost enough to explain what I did.”

 “What did you do?” Joyce asked.

 “I signed up for an online dating service.”

 “Dear Lord, how is that going?”

 “I did a lot of homework. I signed up for something called September of Our Years.”

 “Like the song.”

 “Whatever, Joyce. Anyway, what I noticed when I looked at women’s profiles was, they all say the same thing.” She poured another cup of coffee. Her hands were still cold.

 “You switching sides, I mean looking for women?”

 A hundred unkind responses crossed Deena’s mind in a nanosecond, but she resisted. “No, Joyce. Research. The women on this site all say they love travel, walking on the beach, eating out at restaurants, stuff that costs money.”

 “And?”

 “Well, don’t you think that might scare guys off?” Deena asked.

 “That’s the point, Deena. You want to scare off the cheapskates, not to mention the men who expect you to pay for everything.”

 Deena had had some experience with that. Since her divorce, she’d been on exactly seven dates; two movie dates and five dinner dates. Four of the men paid for dinner, but three of them asked her to leave the tip. Another guy asked her to lend him fifty bucks which of course, she never saw again. Only one guy paid for everything. That guy was also one of her movie dates. Again, he paid. The other movie date was her last date. That guy paid for the tickets, but as they were walking into the theater, he pointed to the concession stand. “How about treating me to a snack?” He asked. When she said yes, he ordered a hot dog, popcorn, an extra-large soda and a gigantic box of candy.

 “Cheapskates, I know,” Deena said. “Remember the hotdog guy at the movies?” 

 “Who could forget that guy.”

 “After he stuffed himself at the movie, he was put out when I wouldn’t invite him in when he dropped me off. I said, ‘I don’t think you can afford it. If I invited you in, I’d have to charge you for the coffee and cookies I baked.’”  

 “Yeah, that was a hoot.”

 “I wrote my profile last night, want to hear it?” Deena asked.

 “By all means,” Joyce said. “Let’s hear it.”

 “Okay, here goes. I’m divorced, 55 but I don’t look a day over 54. If you want to go out with me, check with your mother first to see how it was done in her day. I enjoy activities that will help us to get to know each other, including movies, dancing, dinner and long conversations. I know how to play Texas hold ‘em and I enjoy watching football. I’m a terrible cook, but my baking is worthy of a Paris pastry shop.”

 “Not bad, but the activities you listed sound the same as the ones you criticized,” Joyce said.

 “Well, I left out travel. That’s the most expensive one.”

 “The line about looking 54 is a bit lame, don’t you think?”        

 “Just showing I have a sense of humor. At least I don’t have anything in there like “must adore strawberry Tootsie Roll Pops, or must love Arecibo, Puerto Rico.”

 “You’re making that up,” Joyce said. 

 “Oh no. Very specific, right? I mean what if some really attractive guy didn’t connect with you because he had a preference for grape Tootsie Roll Pops?”

 Joyce laughed. “Any connections yet?”

 “Actually, I haven’t submitted my profile. I need to include at least one photo maybe two or three. I just texted you the ones I’m thinking about.”    

 “Okay, I’ll look. Are you using current photos? A friend from high school joined Match.com and posted pix from fifteen years ago.”

 “Mine are current. I think a lot of women shoot themselves in the foot immediately doing exactly what you said.”

 “I see no point in profile pictures that don’t give a prospective partner an honest look at you. He’ll be pissed off as soon as you meet him. Let’s face it, no man ever fell in love at first site with a woman’s personality alone,” Joyce said.

 “I agree. Did you get the photos?”

 “Yep.”

 “Okay. Should I go with the one where I’m dressed like a nun or the one from the Halloween party, where I came as Al Capone?”  

 “I have a better idea. Run outside and scrape your windows again. I’ll get Bill to take your picture. You’re a strong and independent woman. Sixty year old men really like that.”