The New Dance Card: Looking For Love Online

By Ann Reichardt

When “Love” threw Annie a curve ball and threatened to turn her life into a tailspin at the age of 56 she stepped up to the delicious plate of “dating” and began to hit it out of the park. After her husband left her, Annie was initially confused about what went wrong in her 30-year marriage. She thought she was alone and unique but soon found out after re-entering the dating world there were many lonely hearts out there “looking for love” again. Over eight years Ann jumped into the online dating pool. Her experiences are chronicled in her first book “The Dance Card” Looking For Love After Divorce. It speaks to the human psyche regarding relationships. It is a story of midlife self-discovery and redefining ourselves after a challenge in our life. In “The New Dance Card” Looking For Love Online Annie continues her quest in finding that perfect partner for the last third of her life. With a new perspective, she is throwing strike after strike at would-be-lover after lover, date after date, she is kissing and telling. Can you handle the do’s and don’ts of the second installment? From the silliness of Mr. Jitterbug, the heartache of Mr. Waltz or the scamming of Mr. Hustle to the exciting and sensual Mr. Ballet, time after time Annie’s failed attempts to find her perfect match online, this sixty-something writer, athlete and former nurse might be ready to be swept off of her feet by a man with a radically different background whom she crossed off her dance card once before. Will it be Mr. Tango, the narcissistic control freak or Mr. Rumba the sexually addicted marathon junkie with a high libido who was obsessed with sexting, or perhaps Mr. Jitterbug; the high wire act, uninhibited with unpredictable moves or maybe Mr. Waltz, the charming younger man who charmed the pants off of Annie with his smooth rhetoric and romantic moves but held secrets that were soon revealed? These and more online dating episodes will take you, as they did Annie, on a wild roller coaster of emotions, outlandish thrills, sprinkled with laughter.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 9, 2017
• ISBN: 9781635686043

Book preview

cover.jpg

The

New Dance

Card

Looking For Love Online

Ann Reichardt

Copyright © 2017 Ann Reichardt

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2017

ISBN 978-1-63568-603-6 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64027-264-4 (Hard Cover)

ISBN 978-1-63568-604-3 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

introduction

THE NEW DANCE CARD: Looking For Love Online is a follow-up to her first book THE DANCE CARD: Looking For Love After Divorce. With absolute authenticity, Annie opens up her vulnerabilities filled with insightful, romantic and cautionary tales of searching for that perfect partner in love and life.

Annie’s dream of Happily Ever After comes to an unexpected end when her husband of 30 years announces he wants a divorce. At the age of 56 she is thrust into the singles scene-- sometimes daunting, humiliating, and an affront to one’s self-esteem. But she discovers it can also be fun, enriching and an antidote to loneliness.

Still sexy and vibrant, Annie dives deep into the online dating pool. Her eight-year journey looking for love online provides a vast number of romantic options and she comes up with some prize catches.

With honesty and a slinky black dress, Annie navigates through online dating in midlife. Sharing stories that range from hilarious and horrible to steamy and surprising, she searches for the right partner while facing challenges her younger self never imagined.

Profiles from online dating sites are the sales pitches where men and women pour out their hearts and souls hoping to entice a taker. She gives each date an alter ego name associated with a particular dance style that matches their personality.

What should she do when a man she’s been sexting wants to meet for a real date? Should she give relationship advice to a younger man who’s told her he’s seeing someone else? Can you date your prospective plastic surgeon? Time after time, Annie meets the wrong kind of man--like the hustler whose dating strategy is to create a virtual harem. Or the right man at the wrong time; the suave fellow16 years her junior, who’s hot in bed, but has a secret past. Annie never expected to mix business with pleasure, but after more than a dozen attempts to find her match, this writer, artist, athlete, and former nurse just might be ready for a man with a radically different background.

A sampling of the bizarre men Annie (and obviously other females) met online. And they say women are capricious or difficult…

MR. TANGO: The antagonistic push and pull between us was painful. A narcissist with a head bigger than a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day balloon, he never showed any interest in my life whatsoever. Dominated conversations. A control freak with hint of religious fervor, often referencing the Almighty: Praise be to God. God is love. Trust in the Lord. etc. A contractor building grand homes in his small Midwest community: big fish in a little pond. His high school and college athletic feats were a big part of his life now, relishing in the days of playing football for a Division 3 school. A perfectionist who took pleasure in correcting me; many times. His ultimate desire was to have a beauty queen (much like in high school); arm candy to show off in that small pond of insignificance where he resided. He did find her: a Ms. Wisconsin. They are engaged but he continues to contact me via Facebook and email.

MR. RUMBA: My sexually addicted marathon junkie. Traveling the country to participate in Iron Man competitions. An ornithologist who left his wife because she was getting too fat. Obsessed with his body; consumed with workouts, running, swimming, biking; I couldn’t compete with that. I was afraid he’d discard me if I weren’t totally in shape…like he did his ex- wife. High libido; we had an online sexting connection. Our real-life connection entailed only three dates. He lived four hours away but made the effort to come to me; specifically to satisfy his sexual urges. I was his finishing line. Our chemistry was off the charts; my first sexual adventure after the divorce. I was hooked but distance and having less hair on his body than I did was disconcerting. He’s now married to a woman with a 5-year-old son. Continues to travel and calls me when he’s on the road, wanting to hook up. Curiously it is always around springtime…mating season. I respond with a polite Hello. Nothing more.

MR. JITTERBUG: Handsome accomplished man in his 50s with two kids. Wife left him and remarried. He was mad and hadn’t grieved that loss. A high-wire act with unpredictable moves; ADHD perhaps or manic; though I didn’t observe any exceptionally depressive moments. Energetic, full of life, and a Peter Pan (never wanting to grow up). We had many dates; I was intrigued because he was such a fun-seeker! There seemed to be a glimmer of hope and chemistry but it was always dashed by his not-so-romantic moves. Too often, and unprovoked, he’d verbally lash out at me or all things woman. Our relationship centered around sports, the love of tennis and golf. Sometimes I felt more like his fraternity brother than his date: Drink a few brews, shoot the shit, and so on. Not my ideal. I’ll never forget our first kiss; he wiped off the leftover lipstick with disgust…sad but true.

MR. WALTZ: We were an unlikely duo but had a two-year romantic affair. A tall, athletic man; charmed the pants off of me…many times…figuratively and literally. Recently moved to Midwest with his 6-year-old daughter. I should have known his being 16 years younger than me would eventually become an issue. His impressive rhetoric and ability to communicate swept me into a fantasy world. But I knew from the start (gut feeling) that it was all wrong. We spent quality time together; sporting events, dinners, theatre, but here’s the kicker: all at my expense. I’d be the mother to his daughter, and to him. I was blinded then, but soon woke up to that fact. Deep dark secrets were eventually revealed. He’d served time in Rikers for 3rd degree rape. I suspected he’d been with other men while incarcerated. Was he someone’s bitch? And the deal-breaker: He had a sister who was my age…and turned out to be his mother.

MR. CHA CHA: A guy I never met in person. Lots of phone and email chats. Accomplished, retired, divorced, two daughters. Said he often sailed, but I don’t think so. Our dialogue was fun, cute banter, but too much like a brother and sister than potential lovers. He always kept me at arm’s length not wanting to reveal his true plight. At first, I loved the push and pull of our connection. We’d discuss meeting but it’d never happen. He always backed out at the last minute. At the time I never understood why. Finally found out when he had a moment of vulnerability. A stroke had left him with not only a slight disability but severe bouts of depression. His wife left him soon afterwards and he was now a recluse. I felt a strong psychological connection with him even after this revelation and continued to be a support and ego booster to him; calling and texting to uplift him in times of deep depression. I was OK with his situation. I learned a lot about the quality person he was when vital, and the disconsolate man he became. Alas he just couldn’t pull the trigger on dating, and I had to move on.

MR. TWIST: A professional scammer. He posted a false identity on the dating site with a fake (very handsome) picture and profile to endear any lonely heart. Alleging to be a man in his 50s with an electrical engineering degree (false) working part-time in Nigeria (clever ruse to not be available). He was adept at winning over women with charm and all the right words. Slowly reel them in to form a trusting bond. But Twist only wanted their money. I noticed right away he wrote with broken English and was suspicious. It was a short connection; I received a notification from another woman about this fictitious man. He had scammed her out of thousands of dollars. The two of us started a campaign to expose him. His profile disappeared shortly after.

MR. HUSTLE: A professional Bridge player who also played with women’s heads online. Widowed with 4 kids, ex-collegiate athlete who went to Duke University. I felt sorry for his plight when he spoke of having to raise kids on his own after his wife died of cancer. He wanted to find a new love to fill her shoes and planned to travel the world now that he was nearing retirement. He had the house, the boat, the time share in Florida. A bona fide hustler; Sylvia from Argentina, yet another distraught woman from the dating site, notified others that he’d fooled her into thinking she was the one. Rather, she was one of many he’d meet up with at various locations around the world. Sylvia’s message to me and others: Wife Not Dead. He Has AIDS! His very-alive wife eventually caught wind of his dalliances, notified all the women she could through his computer’s contacts list. Later, she divorced him and took him for all she could.

MR. BALLET: Suave and debonair. He was a professional dancer who traveled the world to perform. Divorced, one daughter. Tall, lean, handsome and a full head of hair. French with a sexy accent. We met, ironically, on a flight to the Pacific Northwest where I was headed to meet an online date, a plastic surgeon, for possible romance plus a nip and tuck. Major turbulence on the flight connected us, through fear and anxiety. He was seated next to me. His calming reassurance created a bond. I jettisoned the surgeon and Mr. Ballet turned out to be one of the most romantic sexual interludes of my life! That of fairytales. Alas, his constant travel lifestyle nixed any hope of a relationship. I wouldn’t doubt there may have been a girl in many of the ports on his itinerary. And I wasn’t completely sold on the divorce; you know, French men and their rep for mistresses.

MR. SAMBA: The closest I came to a keeper was this divorced 62-year-old black man, who lived on both coasts, NYC and LA. He worked in the entertainment industry, promoting and marketing. Tall, athletic, muscular and handsome; played basketball in college and continues to work out daily at a gym. Our connection was sketchy at first meeting; a one-time date. His mother developed Alzheimer’s soon thereafter and we lost contact. Two years passed; I was writing a book and he became interested in helping me promote it, having many connections in Hollywood; producers and production companies. We formed a team to get book to screen. Met with moguls and hobnobbed with the Big Players; Beverly Hills, Bel-Air, Malibu. It all began as collaborators, until one night in a California hotel suite, the bed beckoned and we answered the call. The intimacy eventually created obstacles. We combined business and pleasure for about a year but over time he lost interest in my book and only wanted me for the sex. I became frustrated, held back. He stopped seeing me and, the very next day, returned to the dating site. Mr. Samba broke my heart, but he spared me untold misery further down the road.

These and more online dating episodes will take you, as they did Annie, on a wild roller coaster of emotions, outlandish thrills, sprinkled with laughter.

Chapter One

Mr Contemporary

(First dancer)

I spent the day alone, marveling at the dramatic changes in my life. I had been in a committed monogamous marriage for thirty years with a man I thought would be my everlasting partner. This was not to be. He’d decided that he no longer loved me and wanted a divorce. The memory is still vivid in my mind.

I was laying on my bed that early morning in September 2006. Carl walked into the room with his head hung low and announced, I no longer have romantic feelings for you. I want someone new.

My thoughts went directly to another woman. Was he in love with someone he’d met at his work? The other home where his life was consumed throughout our marriage? I had visions of several potential women who I’d noticed had their eyes on my husband over the years. Those flirtatious moments at events we attended seemed to solidify that this was most likely the case. Just contemplating that he was with someone else made my stomach churn. Imagining him being intimate with another woman was heart-wrenching. I couldn’t breathe at that moment. My thoughts of what he’d been up to over the past months or even years without my knowing was making me physically sick. I wanted to vomit. I soon discovered that all my suspicions were true and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

This happened eight years ago. I felt like I’d been blindsided and my life had ended. I was confused, thrown into feelings of worthlessness, unattractive and undesirable. My self-esteem took a huge nose dive into the dumpster. I’d been discarded like worthless trash.

For months on end I was unable to move forward in any positive direction. The stages of grief were rearing their ugly but necessary heads. Depression set in, overpowering any ability to comprehend the events that were occurring around me. I was frozen in my new undefined life; insignificant and alone at that time. I moved forward eventually but one night eight years later I found myself returning to those unhappy days.

September 2014, almost eight years to the day of the dissolution of my marriage, I received a phone call from a dear friend. Beth had been thrown a similar curveball by her husband of more than 35 years. She was frantic and needed my guidance to help her through this situation, knowing all too well what the outcome for her would likely be.

Through her bouts of intermittent sobbing, she took a deep breath long enough to explain her deep sadness to me. He left. What in the hell am I going to do, Annie?

I knew exactly what she was going through and what she’d have to endure if her marriage ended in divorce. So I tried to calm her anxiety. Beth! Oh my dear God! Are you kidding me? I am so sorry. I will be right over.

He left a note on the top of the stairs saying he was unhappy and wanted to find the happiness he deserved. I can’t go on, Beth wailed. This is not happening to me. He can’t do this to us. I need you, Annie. You’ve been through this and I need someone to talk to.

I suddenly found myself having flashbacks and didn’t really want to go there. But I was her friend and she needed me to help her understand the many stages of this grieving process, along with the ugliness of dividing, emotionally, financially and socially when it comes to divorce. She was now going to be that leper in her old life much like I was. While comforting Beth through this difficult time I reexamined where my life had taken me over these past eight years and hoped she would not be subjected to the same challenges that I had faced. The many changes I’d experienced as a single woman in a couples society. The events that redefined me and my life all began those many years ago. This is how it all started.

October 2006, at the age of 56, I began to wonder where the last third of my life would take me. I was just newly separated with the divorce underway, but the finite end of my marriage was near. Was I ready to take on a new lifestyle? I really had few options now. This wasn’t something I had chosen, it was decided for me. I needed to be strong for myself as well as my family. I had two daughters who needed to be assisted through this murky mess of divorce, and the division of individuals and property that were once thought of as one whole vital family. My two beautiful accomplished daughters, Nina and Claire. They were so young and impressionable when it came to relationships, marriage and love. Nina was leaving for college the following year and Claire was a sophomore in high school. She would have to live with a depressed mother and endure the crap of the divorce process. How could he do this to them? The whole idea of splitting up a family never entered his mind. The collateral damage was astronomical. They would be devastated. My role as caring mother would increase tenfold now. I needed to protect them. This goal initially was my primary focus and continued to be.

But during this period of change, I began to examine the notion of what it was like to be a middle-aged single woman, to once again be free to date. I thought this was all so crazy regardless of what he had done, I often felt that if I even thought of being with another man I was somehow being unfaithful to the one I’d been committed to for so many years. Strange to say the least.

While I was not eager to find that one special individual to fill the void in my life, I promised myself I’d be open to the possibility of meeting new gentlemen. And I did just that. With great skepticism, I reentered the murky dating pool. It was but a few short months from his announcement in 2006 that I’d consider looking for love again. It unfortunately was much too soon, but my decision making was not at its best. My self-esteem had plummeted. I hadn’t finalized my divorce and here I was looking for a replacement. I needed that ego boosted! But where does a 56-year-old go to find love once again? For me, adverse to the bar scene, the only logical place was the Internet.

Online dating is one of the biggest cyberspace enterprises simply because there are so many single people of all ages and diversities looking for love. Shock was my first reaction when I signed up on a popular site. That first click of the mouse presented me with multitudes of lovelorn. I could not believe that there were so many males, who like myself, were faced with the same challenge in their lives; occasionally through widowhood, but mostly divorce. I thought it was sad, really. Was there a flaw in today’s society making it near impossible to remain with one person for a lifetime? It was startlingly apparent that the formula for ever after had radically changed.

Gone were the days of finding that true love and staying together in a monogamous relationship. Are humans even able to do so anymore? I asked myself. The astounding number of online daters certainly made me seriously question that probability.

I dove deep back then. Deep into the murky pool of cyberspace dating. There were only a few sites at that time and I chose the most popular one that I’d heard about from advertisements: Match.com. Here I was, exposing myself as just another commodity. An item to be scrutinized, fantasized about and either chosen or discarded out of hand. The options were numerous and it felt like I was grocery shopping for goods at the market choosing only the desirable items that I considered to stock in my cupboards of love. I had a lot of shelves to fill and that is what I did.

Back then I looked at this quest as if I were going dancing, choosing a dance card like I remembered from when I was a young woman. Those dances were held at local recreation halls on Saturday nights. They were social evenings to meet up with potential partners for either a one-time swing across that gymnasium floor, or for a deeper connection in hopes of finding that life-long dance partner. A dance card offered chances to dance with 10 individuals listed on that card doing a specific type of dance. It was exciting and romantic. Dance is a beautiful form of art, and dating became like a beautiful dance…Well sometimes.

Those dance cards from yesteryear may have gone the way of the dinosaur, but the dance styles themselves remain in vogue. This is illustrated by the wildly popular TV shows Dancing With The Stars and So You Think You Can Dance, and many others. I was thus encouraged to retain the dance styles in describing the men I dated online. Dance cards are replaced by profiles listed on an online dating site. A dossier of sorts describing who you are and what you are looking for in a partner. This is the first of many elevator pitches. Each participant pours their heart and soul out onto a virtual page in hopes they’ll be selected by someone with similar tastes, wants, and needs. With a heavy heart, but somewhat driven by necessity back then, I ventured out to find that perfect dancer in love and in life.

I dubbed each suitor with an alter ego name associated with a particular dance,depending on their expressions of style and the nature of their dating game. I didn’t start out thinking I knew the answer to finding that perfect partner, nor was I sure that I wanted to have someone permanently in my life. This became the start of many adventures of my midlife self-discovery. The formula I developed for finding that perfect individual is chronicled in my first book THE DANCE CARD: Looking For Love After Divorce. This literary adventure was never an expected one but throughout my journey I felt it necessary to share and help others faced with similar challenges. The first online dates I discuss varied in style, substance and personality. The first round included Misters Contemporary, Slow, Tango, Two Step, Grind, Rumba, Salsa, Cha Cha, Jitterbug and the Waltz.

None of these dancers afforded a potential long-term love partnership and I decided to take a break from reading all those profiles of courage from the myriad lovelorn. I put away the old dance card until I felt ready to venture out again.

The steps or lessons I learned along the way gave me the understanding and confidence to continue my quest in looking for that right partner. It began again after the consolation of my friend in 2014. Having just finished my last two-year relationship with Mr Waltz, I felt I’d rather be alone and was resigned to that fact until Beth came to me with her plight. It opened my eyes again to the importance of being a couple. I really wanted that. I was in a race now to find that perfect someone. I realized that there were so many others vying for the same great guy online. Beth would eventually be one of my competitors.

That short period of rest from my exhaustive search allowed me to begin with a new perspective on finding that perfect mate online. My previous men were, for the most part, wonderful and exciting, but missing crucial qualities that would’ve allowed us to create that unified connection I was looking for. I decided that I was ready to open my heart to the possibility of finding another person online, but I’d need a whole new set of rules, expectations, and ideals. I’d approach dating with a fresh eye and an openness to men who I previously would not have considered as potential matches. Those partners that I’d entertained before allowed me the opportunity to examine specific qualities within a dance and a dancer that would or would not fit into my life as a mature woman.

Mr. Contemporary, was a sophisticated man with charm and intelligence, but one who never set foot on the real dance floor. It was all virtually stimulating. Our many conversations online excited both of us and we wanted to continue communicating, but we’d never meet nor practice. I was not sure why?

Mr. Slow was my very first enlistment eight years ago. We entered into a full-fledged committed relationship that happened too soon for me as I was just newly separated. His approach was immature as were his steps to impress me. He was lovely, kind and gentle, providing me with a much needed boost of my low self-esteem. He was my rebound. Extremely kind and gentle, but lacking the ability to move in a direction of intellectual stimulation. He was in the market for a long-term commitment, but I was still healing from my failed marriage. After a two-year relationship it became clear he was not the one. The rebound relationship was certainly in play here with me. Being newly separated I was not ready to make a logical decision for my future in choosing a mate. Mr. Slow provided the perfect introduction to dating again. His words of affirmation and terms of endearment were enough to make a girl’s head spin in the direction of true love. He did just that, until I was able to clear my head and assess the situation.

Relationship experts describe two important stages of love in the beginning. First, the passionate love. During this phase the brain gets flooded with dopamine giving one that feel good sensation, much like a drug. But as with all drugs the potency fades, usually within 12 to 18 months. The brain returns to the normal non dopamine phase. Companionate love enters leaving those feel good juices behind. Logic sets in and the normal everyday issues become more obvious. Unfortunately for me and other first time daters, we are caught up in that passion, paving the way for later regrets. I learned the hard way with Mr. Slow.

Mr. Tango was my first major disappointment in online dating. A less than savory narcissistic conflicting partnership, Mr. Tango showed me that it really does take two to tango. Our initial meeting was a typical luncheon date. He presented himself as quite the catch. All the prerequisites I held dear as a perfect match were all there in that well written profile. The looks, the height, education, athleticism and more. That first real-life connection becomes the initial analysis of whether or not there will be a mutual attraction. I was wishing it would be. It wasn’t. His story was shotgunned at Mr. His Wife Left Him. He was pissed. Our conversations centered around his plight. I listened with patience; hoping he might inquire about my life. Never happened.

I left that disappointing luncheon thinking we’d never meet again. But surprisingly we remained in touch through texting.Then he called one day and wanted to give it another try. I agreed in hopes of a transformation.The second go-round was a test. Would he be different this time? Unfortunately, he failed. Mr Tango continued to be that self-absorbed feel sorry for me man. He wasn’t all that interested in me. He actually said, I need a younger woman, eye candy of sorts, to get back at my ex-wife!

I was not going to be that woman. Next.

Mr. Grind was a painful experience. The one that I disliked most of all. He in fact returned the sentiments. His negative attitude toward life and response to me as a woman allowed me to observe a man with very little ability to navigate dating. He clearly did not like me, or maybe it was just women in general? He too had been married for many years and told his wife he no longer loved her. His response to me was I was much like your ex husband I shoved that knife into her and twisted it. Moving On.

Mr. Two Step was a brief entertainment, a quick study in relating to a highly intellectual individual, but one who lacked social norms. He lived the high life in Chicago; speed boats, jet-setting, being one of the boys with toys but was now returning to his family roots working on the farm, tinkering with tractors and riding horses. He was awkward around me, and proclaimed he had never met anyone online. I was his first date. Fidgeting, looking uncomfortable, unable to make eye contact, our conversations were short and incomprehensible, to at least me. He was a one-time encounter that left both of us with little desire to continue.

Mr. Rumba was the first of titillating sexual experiences for me. We had a tempestuous and steamy, on again and off again relationship that presented undeniable chemistry. I was typically very conservative. Opening up vulnerabilities was empowering yet frightening at the same time. The steps we took back then to begin a mutually agreeable sexual relationship through cyberspace remains a curiosity to this day. It was intimate without the real-life connection. To be able to chemically connect with one another through sexting and email continues our strange yet exciting adventure together. Our communication is intermittent nowadays. Mr. Rumba is a sex junkie who requires that fix every so often from me. Surprisingly, without hesitation, I accommodate him through sexting. I’m not sure why? Mr. Rumba is a marathon man. Thriving on competition and winning. I believe that I may have been one of several ongoing conquests.

Mr. Salsa enlightened me to a musicality of