Last night, I had a zoom call with two of my buds from high school.
The topic? Um, boys, of course. Of the three of us, one recently experienced a lightning bolt shoot through Facebook Messenger, and right smack into somewhere she thought was closed for business. Apparently not.
We’ll call her Venus.
She was messaged by a guy who, according to legend (hers), she shared breathless teenage interludes with, pressed against a fig tree, and surrounded by goats and chickens. They all lived together in harmony in a tiny Greek village. Yes, really. Their super-secret rendezvous went undetected because she used the one excuse that never fails – she had to go to the bathroom. Or in this case, the outhouse. Now, a zillion years later, they reconnected, if only for a little while. She’s plotting her entry into the world of online dating.
Friend number two, and one of my besties forever and ever, had imbibed in a few glasses of wine and was chanting for Venus to “color yo roots, color yo roots, color yo roots,” which she meant literally. Venus, in her view, must color her grey hair (on her head). She’s game to enter the arena too, and for the record, her roots are colored.
My role is to be the wise old sage of online dating, or as I like to tell my friends, to be their sex fairy godmother. They asked questions on which site to use and mentioned the sites geared toward our age. Silver Singles, really? I can’t even think of something funny to say to that.
So here goes round two. I am looking forward to having wing women for this reentry into the wild and wooly world of dating over 50. Together, we’ll be seeking love or sex (or the jackpot – BOTH) in this bizarro time filled with protests, a pandemic, and politics. It gets easier, but it never gets easy.
… and since Jason Isbell came out with a new album last month, called Reunions, appropriately enough, it is only fittin’ that he’s my first pick for adventures 2.0, followed by a bonus track.