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HoneyBunch, Chapter Two

It took me two-three sessions on eHarmony’s website to answer all the questions.  I pushed the last button and went to bed thinking I’d wake up to find a long list of men dying to date me.
I had zilch.

I rechecked all the steps, and the website advised me to wait a few days – it was searching its entire pool.  Zilch, again. I prayed the mob trying to log on had crashed the website, but I knew better.

On the verge of pathetic, I went back in and readjusted my answers and expectations.

I enlarged the search area to include a fifty-mile radius outside of the metropolis. Obviously the many million inhabitants weren’t a large enough pool to find me one man.  I also extended the age range I was willing to consider. (I just needed him able to get around on his own.) I even lied. (What? I wasn’t applying for the Medal of Honor; I just wanted one date.)

Finally, I had nibbles. 

Most of the matches were sad; few of the men interested me, none enough to venture dating any of them. My membership was running out and I was still dateless.

In the end, I whittled the list down to three:  a widower who talked only about his late wife, a man who went on and on about his beautiful eyes, and a proud dad with a previous married life similar to mine.  

I deleted the widower - who wants to compete with the memory of a dear wife? The man who was so into his own looks probably never noticed that I was gone, so that left the lonely dad.

Swapping emails with him was like looking into a mirror, and I wanted something different, something new. He sounded too serious, but still, maybe we could continue chatting once my eHarmony membership expired. Maybe we could just be friends.

To be continued. . . .  

Comments

  1. Ohhhhh, "lonely dad"... I just love this little made-for-blog mini-series. You must expound in this some time...what a great romance. Love.

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