Dating in the 90s

When I repatriated to Atlanta in ’93 after having lived in Bahrain and Egypt for 10 years, I found a few things had changed which had not been obvious to me when visiting. The first was when I moved into my condo and called Ma Bell to get a phone. That’s when I learned that if I wanted a phone, I’d have to go buy one; this from a service representative who was obviously too young to know phones used to come from the phone company.

My second revelation came when I was in a department store with my daughter, Toni and saw an adorable little girl with her mother. I immediately started talking to the child, telling her how pretty she was when I noticed the mother giving me the old “evil eye” before she walked away, holding tightly to her daughter’s hand. That’s when Toni told me I should never begin a conversation with a child without first getting the parent’s permission. How sad is that.

But what really shocked me was how the men had changed when it came to dating. After being home about a year and knowing that it was really finished with me and Adel, I signed up with an online dating service. When I wrote up my profile, I decided to be perfectly honest for what I hoped to find in a man, published a recent photo and gave my correct age.

The first time I accepted a coffee date with someone, it didn’t really surprise me to discover the photo he had posted was not all that recent. But the real problem was that his false teeth reminded me so much of my ex-mother in law’s set, right down to the smile itself. I’m not even sure that I finished my coffee.

Next I had an afternoon drink date with a man who told me he was looking for a wife, full stop. He also said he already had plenty of friends and if I wasn’t good in bed, it wouldn’t work. I told him good luck on both counts and left.

Soon after, I had a coffee date with a man who told me within the first five minutes that there was obviously no chemistry, so he excused himself. I decided to order a Danish because the coffee was really good and I had brought a book in my purse so I was a happy camper. My momma didn’t raise no fool, no sir.

Then I met the professor from University of Georgia (UGA is in Athens, Georgia, about an hour and a half from Atlanta). We met, as usual, on a coffee date one afternoon and I was impressed with his demeanor, intelligence and his gorgeous blue eyes. Hmmm, this one might go somewhere, I thought.

After a few drink and lunch dates where we usually met some place halfway between the two cities, we had a proper dinner date one evening on my turf. He was staying nearby and, when he asked if I wanted to go back to his motel after dinner, my antenna starting going “boing, boing” …and loudly. So I just came right out and asked if he was married. He was and that ended my continuing to see old blue eyes. He said he was single on his profile. Bad boy.

Several more introductory coffee dates followed, but they seemed to be with the same person because they all said the same thing. They “knew what they wanted” and they wanted it right now, this minute. Sure most of them wanted marriage with the sex, but I wasn’t about to jump into anything, especially marriage, after leaving a 9 year relationship that didn’t work out.

What happened to taking the time to get to know each other? What happened to sharing a conversation that didn’t involve past relationships and what went wrong? What happened to snuggling, just for the sake of being close to someone you like?

But I didn’t give up, not just yet anyway. And finally I met someone who seemed to have the same values as I, and who didn’t want to rush into anything. So for the next several weeks, this guy and I spent quite a few evening in each other’s company, and I was enjoying every minute of it.

Then one night at my condo where we were having an after dinner brandy, I told him that I wanted to be completely honest with him; I told him I had twice had endogenous (clinical) depression and it was highly likely that I’d have it again some time in the future. He was quite nice about it, as he told me that he just didn’t think that was something he wanted to “deal with” as his wife was sick for a very long time before she died.

Of course, I explained what endogenous depression is like, that I could function completely, go to work every day, etc, but that in order to do so, I would have to take medication until my synapses began firing properly again. But I could tell from the look on his face that, either he didn’t understand, or he didn’t believe me, because soon after we were saying goodbye.

And that was that for me. I had given it the old college heave ho for a good year, this dating thing. I wasn’t getting anywhere I wanted to be, so I pulled my name off the website and never looked back. My job was time consuming as it was, and gave me great satisfaction, so I began getting home later and later. My cats didn’t mind and they didn’t judge me.

I just turned 69 in December and not for one minute have I regretted that I’ve lived alone for the past 15 years. I like myself and my own company and I actually like that I don’t have to consider someone else before making a decision about what I want to do or where I want to go. It’s a freeing experience, and perhaps not one I’d recommend for just anybody, but I’m a very happy and satisfied individual.

But I’m also glad I experienced the dating thing, albeit for only a year or so, because I learned so much about how people have changed over the years, especially myself. And that’s a good thing.

Have you had any "freeing" experiences of late?