You Cant Make this stuff up

Tag: dating

  • Online Dating – She Bit My Arm

    Online Dating – She Bit My Arm

    Carol and I folded our respective ex-spouses back into the community years ago. Then, at 68 and 75, we decided to find each other.

    But what do you do at our age?

    How many potential candidates are sitting at a bar waiting to connect with official Medicare-card-carrying strays?

    The library?

    There are probably a few possibilities left, but I haven’t read a book in ten years. What would I talk about?

    Church?

    Sure, there might be candidates, but they didn’t exactly fit my desired profile.

    So, like millions of other singles, I went online.

    Where Do You Start?

    Plenty of Fish. Match. OurTime. SilverSingles. Senior Singles. FarmersOnly. Christian Mingle.

    And about 400 others.

    I decided to start with one of the cheaper ones.

    It proved to be cheap.

    They all start about the same: Male. Height: Tall. Build: Slim, athletic, average or a few extra pounds. Picture. Likes. Dislikes. Hobbies. What are you looking for?

    I filled it all out.

    For the record, my build is average — without my beer belly.

    Let the Dating Begin

    Plenty of Fish: $29.95 on the Visa.

    Online dating quickly becomes a full-time job.

    You reach out to dozens of people. The ones you like don’t respond. The ones you don’t like flood your inbox.

    My age put me into the “few extra years” category.

    Slim pickings based on my desired profile, but my inner child kept reminding me:

    You’re in your mid-seventies!

    I was looking for a woman of average build who loved romantic cruises on a lake at sunset, cozy nights by the fire, traveling and trying new restaurants.

    I got my first hit.

    She loved nighttime cruises, too.

    Through marshland looking for good places to catch walleye.

    Then she’d get up at 5 a.m., bait the hooks and spend four hours enjoying the hot sun and feeding mosquitoes.

    Cozy evenings?

    Absolutely.

    Watching Jeopardy! reruns.

    Travel?

    Four times a year to Poughkeepsie to visit the grandchildren.

    “Billy is a junior and third-string running back. Maybe you could join us for our October trip. We’re hoping to see him get across the line of scrimmage at least once before Grampy dies — or Billy graduates.”

    This wasn’t going to be the one.

    Then She Bit Him

    Next, I connected with a woman who seemed to have everything I wanted and more.

    We arranged our first date at a bar.

    Everything was going great. Talking. Laughing. Shots. Karaoke. Cuddling in a booth.

    This could be the one.

    Then suddenly:

    “Oh, shit. My ex-boyfriend is here. We shouldn’t have come here. This is the biker bar he hangs out at.”

    Wonderful.

    Am I about to become a bumper sticker on the mirror behind the bar?

    He walked over.

    “Are you dating her?”

    “Nope. First time.”

    He nodded.

    “You better be careful.”

    Then he pulled up his sleeve and pointed to several marks on his arm.

    “These are all the places she bit me.”

    Nope. Not the one.

    Maybe I Needed a Better Dating Site

    I moved up to the next level and decided to test the lower age ranges.

    50+.

    A long shot.

    Hopefully she wouldn’t do the math.

    When this 50-year-old reached retirement age at 67, I’d be 92, sitting at Happy Acres Rest Home eating creamed corn, Jell-O, applesauce and prunes.

    Then I got a hit.

    Beautiful Asian woman from Singapore. Late 40s. Slim. Great smile. Smart. Very friendly.

    She told me in her culture the man was the head of the household and her role was to pamper and fill every need of  her soulmate until death do us part.

    “You are what I dreamed of. We have so much in common.”

    We communicated day and night for weeks.

    Soon, we were in love.

    Finally!

    I had found my life partner.

    She couldn’t stand being away from me any longer and decided to buy a one-way ticket to Orlando.

    Cost: $965.

    Then came a little problem.

    “My brother owes me money, but he can’t pay me until he sells his motorcycle.”

    Could I cover the airfare?

    Of course, she did love me and would certainly pay me back.

    “How do I send it?”

    Easy.

    Buy gift cards and text her the numbers.

    Nope.  She certainly wasn’t the one.

    My beautiful future bride from Singapore disappeared about as quickly as she had appeared.

    Watch out for this scam.

    Surely my luck had to improve.

    One More Try

    Next came a beautiful woman, 65, athletic, 5’8”, no baggage, no kids, no cats, no dogs, no grandkids and no debt.

    She raved about her experience in fine dining, French wine, white tablecloths, candles and Baked Alaska for dessert.

    She lived 50 miles away.

    Perfect.

    We planned dinner, drinks, a piano bar and maybe dancing.

    Then she walked in.

    If that was really her profile picture, it had been taken about 35 years earlier.

    Apparently, I’d fallen in love with a historical photograph now dressed in an aqua colored house coat. 

    She spent most of dinner guzzling imported wine and working her way through four baskets of warm rolls and several helpings of tenderloin.

    At one point, I excused myself, walked into the men’s room and slammed my head against the hand dryer.

    When is this going to be over?

    The $6.50 Rule

    After all my online dating experience, I can offer one valuable piece of advice:

    ALWAYS MEET AT STARBUCKS THE FIRST TIME.

    Invest 30 minutes and $6.50 on a large Caramel Frappuccino.

    If there’s nothing there, you’ve lost half an hour and the price of a coffee.

    If there is?

    Move on from there.

    Or maybe move in.

    Then There Was Carol

    Carol and I actually did meet online.

    We had both reached the same conclusion at about the same time:

    One more try.

    We happened to both sign up for the most expensive dating site. 

    And this time, it worked.

    No walleye.

    No bite marks.

    No Singapore gift cards.

    No 35-year-old glamour shots.

    Just Carol.

    We got married July 18, 2026.

    So maybe online dating really does work.

    It just took several bad dates, one scammer and a woman whose ex-boyfriend had teeth marks on his arm to prove it.

    What happened after online dating?

    Carol and I got married—and I danced down the aisle at 75. [Read our wedding story.]

    At 75, I Got Married. We Threw Out the Wedding  Rulebook.

    https://crazyfamily.blog/2026/08/17/date-an-undesirable-see-the-world/

    Many More Stories ….crazyfamily.blog

  • Date an Undesirable, See the World

    Date an Undesirable, See the World

    Dating in a family of 11 was an adventure in itself.

    With six girls and five boys, dating sometimes became a family partnership. The girls attended an all-girls Catholic academy and Catholic college. The boys went to Notre Dame. Eventually, one brother married one of our sisters’ roommates, and three of the girls married Notre Dame guys.

    Apparently, we didn’t believe in looking too far from home.

    The $1 Chaperone

    One of the girls I met and dated was from Cuba, and she was beautiful. We hit it off and dated for three years.

    But with nice comes a price.

    Her parents had two mandates.

    First, she could date only good Catholic boys.

    I passed that test.

    Second, there had to be a chaperone on every date.

    That was a little more challenging.

    Fortunately, I had ten siblings.

    I offered one of them $1 to ride along, sit in the back seat while I picked up my date, and make sure her parents saw that their daughter was properly chaperoned.

    It worked beautifully.

    For a while.

    Soon $1 wasn’t enough. The going rate climbed to $1.25, then $1.50, then $2.

    By the six-month mark, even $2 couldn’t get me a chaperone.

    I was crushed.

    Then Christmas came—and so did a miracle.

    My family gave me a folding dummy dressed in a Notre Dame sweatshirt and stocking cap.

    Problem solved.

    Before picking up my date, I’d pull the dummy out of the trunk, unfold him, put him in the back seat and fasten his seat belt.

    There he sat, faithfully chaperoning us.

    It worked like a charm.

    For three years.

    The Girl Who Was Never Going Anywhere

    Mom was concerned about my sister Jenna.

    She had no interest in dating or proms. While the rest of us were going out, Jenna was perfectly happy at home in her jeans and saddle shoes, sitting at the dining room table.

    Mom worried:

    “She’s never going to meet anyone, get married, go anyplace or enjoy life.”

    Then we boys brought a few guys home from college to party after a football game.

    One was a quiet accounting major with dark-rimmed glasses and a pocket protector containing two pencils and a pen.

    He went gaga over Jenna.

    They got married.

    He quickly moved up the corporate ladder, eventually becoming a senior vice president with a global insurance firm.

    And while the rest of us live modestly and plan a trip to an amusement park in Ohio…

    Jenna is in Monaco on a Mediterranean cruise.

    The Mom Smell Test

    Whether we liked it or not, anyone we dated eventually had to pass Mom’s smell test.

    If Mom decided a boyfriend or girlfriend was an “undesirable,” she could be remarkably cunning and creative in trying to uproot the relationship.

    My sister Susan dated Lawrence for four years.

    Lawrence did not fit Mom’s preferred profile.

    Mom tried coercion.

    Grounding.

    Strict curfews.

    The silent treatment.

    Nothing worked.

    So Mom changed tactics.

    “Susan, we think it would be a great experience for you to spend six months abroad in a student exchange program.”

    Susan jumped at the opportunity.

    Off to England she went.

    Six months later she came home.

    And went right back to Lawrence.

    Mom wasn’t finished.

    “Susan, here’s another wonderful opportunity to learn and travel in Germany.”

    Off to Germany she went.

    She came home.

    Back to Lawrence.

    By now, the rest of us had figured out Mom’s international dating strategy.

    One of us finally asked:

    “Susan, are you really going to break up with Lawrence?”

    Susan had her answer:

    “Yes. As soon as I get back from Norway next year.”

    And that became one of the great lessons of growing up in our family:

    Date an undesirable. See the world!

    You can’t make this stuff up.