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I’m 65 and I’m Single and I’ve Kissed Enough Frogs
Frog-free is working for me
I am 65 and single, and I know I should be looking for Mr. Right.
Somewhere out there is the perfect man for me. He’s smart and funny and honest and kind. (And, with any luck, a really good kisser.)
Even though a man like that is hard to find, especially for a woman in her 60s, all the books and fairy tales tell me that he exists.
I just need to locate him. I’ve posted my profile on dating sites. I’ve asked my pals to introduce me to their age-appropriate single friends. I once even consulted a local matchmaker who set me up with two terrific guys.
Unfortunately, both turned out to be Trump supporters. (I said “Mr. Right,” not “Mr. Right Wing.”)
I’ve definitely put myself out there. I’m playing the match game. And? I haven’t found him yet.
Not to worry. Kiss enough frogs, I’m told, and I’ll find my prince.
And so? I’ve been kissing frogs. Plenty of them. (Metaphorically, of course, which is to say that I’m not going to lock lips with someone the first time we meet for coffee. A courtship needs to last longer than a cappuccino.)
I’ve had great getting-to-know-you phone conversations and numerous coffee dates…
