Wasted Effort 11/24/20

Thoughts by Richard Bleil

Today was kind of interesting (“today” as of the day of writing this post, a few days before it is actually published). I had a photography session with a professional photographer. I asked him if he had any tricks that he could use to make me look better, so he put the lens cap back on the camera before starting.

These photos were arranged by and for the use of a dating service that I just joined. Through the many lonely years of my life, I believe I’ve tried just about every method possible for finding a partner, and the best luck I had was my ex-wife, which means my luck has been worse than none at all. I mean, like expecting to win the lottery and ending up arrested and deported from the planet Earth kind of bad. I’ve tried meeting women on my own, being fixed up, online dating sites, newspaper personals, digging up cemeteries to create my own (hence my ex-wife), converting prostitutes, just about everything that you can imagine. Which begs the question, why, for the love of God, do I keep trying at all?

I wish I could answer that. I guess that it’s just not in my nature to give up. All in all, I don’t think I’m a horrible guy, although I am atypical. I’m old, but I have a full head of hair, I’m of average build (no beer gut; not drinking beer helps with that), I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, and I don’t do drugs (which might be part of the problem; without having these typical bad habits I’ve often wondered if women feel somehow pressured to avoid the same things). I try hard to be responsive to the needs of my partner, don’t cheat, am highly romantic and kinky in the bedroom. I love kink. So, what’s the deal?

My grandfather had no problem. He dated a woman forty years his junior when he was in his seventies. Yeah, that’s not me. In his seventies, my grandfather dated a woman about forty years younger than he was. The family was furious about this, believing that she was stealing money from his cash drawer, but the way I figured it, it was his money and he should be able to spend it on what makes him happy. But that’s just me.

Belonging to a service like this, they’re very non-committal. They promise no certain minimum of dates, no guarantee of how the dates will go and of course no guarantee of a match. It’s like being fixed up on blind dates and paying a ton of money for it. I hope it’s not like my friend in high school who fixed me up with one of his girlfriend’s friend. They were very kind about it. They told me just to be myself. Except, don’t wear the clothes I usually wear. And don’t tell any jokes. And be anybody other than me.

This service hires a photographer to take a half dozen or so photographs. They won’t allow you to send your own photos. I’m guessing when they did, the male members kept sending in too many pictures of their male members. Their argument is that by taking the photos, they know the photos are of the client and not somebody else.

The next step is to meet with my case manager. Just like a parole officer. It will be a remote meeting, and all I know about her is that she has the same name as my ex-wife. No, that’s a joke, but with my luck neither would it really surprise me.

Still I have yet to answer why I’m even trying. I wish I had a good answer for you, but here are a couple of possibilities. First, and foremost, I think I’m still just trying, desperately, to keep moving forward. This weekend I sold my motorcycle, which was a difficult failure and step backwards, so maybe this is just my way of trying something to keep the forward momentum. I’m still trying to close on my house, but that seems unlikely to occur before Thanksgiving (just a few days away now). I hoped for that because I have furniture being delivered shortly thereafter, but now I’m thinking I might need to delay those deliveries. Second, it’s a way of meeting people in the area. I’m still a stranger in a strange land, so maybe this is a way to meet people and explore the area. It’s not a great way to meet people; if I continue my streak of luck in this kind of arena, I probably won’t make any lasting friendships, but I’ll get out and about. Maybe that’s enough.

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