I’m Sunny Chanel, the main character in Middle Ageish, Shirley’s novel. Fifty and dating. A lot.
Did I have a choice? The woman invented me. She dated. She wrote. She stuck me in the novel. She even broke my heart. Lots of those meets in the novel were the real thing, but who can tell what’s true from truish?
I’ve lost track myself. I’ll bet Shirley’s lost track too.
She carried a little notebook to meets, took notes in the toilet stall. Names. Dates. Details.
“I don’t drink wine,” my meet announces once we’re seated. It’s happy hour at my favorite waterfront spot. You can watch the sunset over the water. “In the past year, I have completely changed my diet,” he says. “But you go ahead. Please. Order a glass.” “Not even red wine? Red is healthy.” Do I think I can talk him into changing his newly changed ...Read More
Here’s the thing with online dating. You never know. You never know when a man will ghost after emailing you for three weeks. You never know if he’ll call after a meet. And you never know if he’s married. We meet at Atticus, the bookstore, and chat for a few minutes. On the way to the restaurant, Jean Luc takes my hand twice and kisses ...Read More
“Are you free Thursday?” Ken says on the phone. Let’s meet for a drink and go from there.” An hour we’ve been talking with no lags in the conversation. “Sounds good,” I say. “How about 5:30?” Thursday at seven is my salsa lesson. That gives us an hour and a half of togetherness and a reason for me to cut out. In case. When I ...Read More
Leonard is late late late for our third date. I’ve wandered around the parking lot in the driving rain, gone inside the restaurant, and returned to my car where I check my phone three times in eight minutes. When he finally arrives, he’s apologetic, tells me he spent a frustrating half hour at home looking for his glasses. I climb into his truck, glad for ...Read More