For more than a decade, on-and-off (actually, more “on” than “off”), I’ve had a profile on a dating site called JDate. And, in all that time, I dated one guy (“Doc”) for a few months in 2005 (he’s coming 1500 miles to visit me in April with his fiancée) and have met less than a handful of others. So, my track record around being a desirable woman is less than stellar. I’ve gotten all sorts of feedback from men:

“You travel way too much.” (It’s true, I do. It’s a necessary part of how I make most of my income.)

“You’re physically larger than I thought you’d be.” (It’s true. While I’m 5 foot 1 inch tall in bare feet, I vacillate between a size 10 and a size 14, sometimes even a 16 but we’ll not go there right now. Today I’m a 12.)

“You can’t be in my bed every night.” (It’s true. Now, why exactly is that a bad thing?)

“You live too far away from me”—said by men who live less than 30 minutes away and by those who live across the continent. (It’s true. I don’t live next door. But, how myopic can you be? I have a friend who met his Aussie wife on a flight back to his hometown of Seattle.)

“You’re very self-assured and don’t seem to need a man in your life.” (It’s true. I don’t “need” a man; it’s not like I’m missing an arm or a leg. Yet, I’d like a sensuous, caring man in my life. I truly loved being married. And, at times I do get scared.)

So . . . imagine what it must have felt like when I got a slew of messages no more than 60 seconds after pushing the “submit” button on my new swing profile: from an over-50s private party crowd (yikes! they “look” old in the photo they sent), from couples (even though I said I was seeking a male partner), and from single men. Heck. I got more than 500 page views within the first hour.

To put it mildly, I was stunned. Shocked. Speechless. Overwhelmed. I didn’t feel comfortable calling anyone to share what was going on. At this point in my life, other than Maestro, only one man I knew who lived in DC, my last husband (don’t ask . . . ), and two of my girlfriends even had an inkling of what was happening on the swing side of my life.

And so I laughed. Hysterically. Out loud. To the point of tears. The floodgates had opened and invitations were pouring in.

How does one respond to so much mail? It would have been easy to ignore most of it. But that’s not my style. I learned a long time ago that common courtesy and graciousness go a long way in life. You never know when you might meet or need someone that you dissed.

I started by sending the same message to all the couples:

Thank you for your note. At this time, I’m seeking a single male swing partner. Once I find him, I’ll be back in touch. Feel free to check my profile regularly for updates!

Have fun!

Randi

I never did respond to the party invite. Just because I’m 51 doesn’t mean I look my age or want to play with those who are older. I love young–and I mean young—men. Where the word, “retirement” doesn’t enter into any conversation.

And the single guys? I read each and every profile—and every single note. All of them received a response, customized to what they had shared. But that only got me more mail! Geez. They all worked fast.

I decided to interview these men. Yes, you heard me. Interview them. For the job of swing partner. My good girl brain had collided head on with my bad girl desires.

After screening for age and marital status (men over 54 years of age and those who were married/separated/engaged/living with girlfriends were immediately sent “no thank you” notes) I had four criteria to start with (only the first and last of which I shared with those I met; the other two I kept to myself):

Are you smart enough to stimulate my brain (the primary sex organ) and keep me from getting bored?

Can you hold a decent conversation so that couples would be enchanted by you—and me?

Can you make me laugh?

Are you experienced in swinging and in partnering with a single female swing partner?

I set up my first interview for the next afternoon. There was no time to waste. I was actually going to be home for two full weeks. Really . . . how hard could it be to find a swing partner in 14 days with this level of interest?