When you reach a certain age, your skin gets pale and spotty, your whiskers get long and grey, and you just can’t seem to find a good man anymore.
Which is why I am happy that they invented waterproof cell phones, and even happier that some disgruntled fellow flung his from the interstate bridge, straight into the river near my home, and didn’t cancel his data plan.
I’ve had alot of men in my lifetime, so I know what I want. I’m not into skinny guys, or tough guys. I like my men soft and sensitive, with a little meat on their bones, although at this point, I’ll take what I can get.
Desperation lead me to create a dating profile, but I knew I wouldn’t catch a man with my actual photograph. Instead, I googled some tight, toned broad in a bikini and used her picture. Jen seemed like an appropriate name.
Description: I thought for a minute. Should I include my hobbies, or make something up here as well? I decided to keep it simple.
“Wet, and Ready to Play.” I typed.
The little phone lit up all day with new messages. I hadn’t gotten this much attention in years. A young, chunky man caught my eye. His name was Mark.
We had a few brief conversations, and I really felt a connection. He had a dog, he lived alone and mostly stayed inside and played video games. He told me he liked to go hiking sometimes, but he couldn’t swim. That didn’t bother me one bit, and ‘Jen’ and Mark got along quite famously.
Eventually he asked to meet up together, and I eagerly anticipated his visit. It had been so long since I had enjoyed a man. Good men are so hard to find. I worried a bit about what he might think when he discovered the truth, but I hoped he’d be understanding.
Mark showed up right where I asked him to come, a little out of breath, bouquet in hand. It was such a sweet gesture. I was flattered, to say the least. He looked around nervously, by the foot of the interstate bridge, hoping to woo the girl of his dreams.
As he stepped close to the river’s edge and I swam up and pulled him under, he was taken completely by surprise. There wasn’t much of a struggle. Once his lungs filled with water, his body settled among the rocks and began to rot and bloat.
I happily slurped the tender flesh from his bones. It melted off in chunks. It is so hard to find a good man. Some are tough, some are chewy. Mark was close to the best man I’ve ever had.
I think I may try Rob, or maybe James next. My inbox is swelling with potential. I try to keep my standards high, even though I’m a bottom feeder.
They say you really have to be careful with internet dating. Rumor has it, some of those girls that seem too good to be true, are just catfish.