Archive for February 3rd, 2011

This One’s for the Girls


Posted by Mikie Baker  |  No Comments »

Ladies, the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. If you are married, just put up with him. Do it and don’t complain. The other side of the fence could use some new Astroturf.

After Handsome Handy Man and I broke up, I called VBF.

ME: “Okay, I’ve had it with men for awhile. I’m going to focus on losing weight, building my business and meditation.”
VBF: “Yeah, right.”
ME: “No, really. I’m taking a break from dating. This year’s all about me.”
VBF: “This from a woman who, 30 years later, still wears a button that says “I Like Men?”

She knows me too well. The very next day I signed up for a new dating service. It’s free which essentially means they haven’t screened out the crazies. I get to do it myself and, girls, have I been busy.

In less than a week, I’ve crossed paths with a Stalker, a Smoocher, a Moocher, a Sad Sack, a Singing Professor, a Part Time Playboy, an Artist, a Model/Actor, a Ph.D., a Mafia Man, a Pool Shark, The Gambler and an Extra Good Old Boy with a missing set of dentures. And I haven’t even been out of the house.

So, let’s talk about this collection of misfits behind their backs, shall we?

Right off, I found a man with the right equipment – a tractor and a brush hog. With 2 acres, that can make a country woman mighty satisfied. Unfortunately, he turned out to be a Part Time Playboy with a gal on every 10 acres.

I passed on some of the men by simply ignoring their pleas of clever email subject lines like “Hi”. I suspect Moochers, Mafiosos and Gamblers never did graduate from high school.

There was the other end of the spectrum – the overly intelligent Ph. D. who was rather snobbish and threw around words like “onamonapia” and “aposiopetic”. Have you ever tried to end a sentence with an aposiopetic figure of speech? It’s hard as…

The Stalker only came out late at night when decent Americans were asleep. He left cryptic messages about the meaning of life and death. I emailed him the Suicide Hotline number. He doesn’t need a date, he needs help.

The Sad Sack was really a nice man who was dumped by his wife last Valentines Day and he’s still not over her. All I know is he’s out for a romantic Valentines date.

A few got to the “call me” phase of the weeding out process. Once a gardener, always a gardener.

The Artist tried to paint me in to a corner, which is pretty hard to do on the phone. The Model/Actor ran through some old lines from his walk-on role in CHiPS and the Pool Shark tried to run the table.

They were nothing compared to the Singing Professor. When talking with him, he kept breaking into song every other sentence. He didn’t just sing a stanza, no, he sang me an entire musical. First time ever someone’s managed to shut me up.

I only let one slip through the radar for a real date – unfortunately, he was The Smoocher – half man, half octopus. At least fending him off could be considered my exercise for the day.

I’m starting to think you get what you pay for. Maybe it’s worth 30 bucks a month for a filter. Oh what the heck. Think I’ll go hunting for a cowboy. I’m getting good at putting up with all the bull.

Mikie Baker 

Copyright Medina Mikie, Ink.