O-40 Lesbian Dating Final Thoughts

Two women --one about refrigerator height, the other's eyes were even with the former's shoulders -- walked together along the tree-lined trail, small streams of rainwater erased each footstep their sensible hiking boots created on the muddy path. This was a planned "date," to Go For a Hike. Their online matchmaker determined that they both liked Fresh Air, Laughing, and Open, Honest Communication. It was the first time they'd ever been together.
Shoulder-length brunette wore a crinkly, azure Gore-Tex jacket, faded jeans, and black gloves. Her wooly socks crested the tops of her boots and folded to the second eyelet. Shorty wore her soft, curly black hair to mid-neck, a thick orange scarf surrounded her throat and hung over her thick blue sweater. It was one of those hand-knitted types with a melding of autumnal colors, blues, browns, and yellow speckles which hung over her small hips. She also wore sensible low-cut hiking boots with green socks. Her mud brown pants were a bit too short, like they'd been in the dryer far too many minutes and far too many times.

They walked along maintaining a 'safe' distance between each other, you know, about 6 inches, careful to not touch, but close enough to demonstrate that simple 'You'll do,' attraction to the other. More than six inches often implies platonic desire. Of course, in the world of women-seeking-women, this is how the fire is flamed.

Each inquisitive sentence began with a look at the boots, the path, and a sideways peek, "So, do you...?" Their responses, equally as tentative and repetitive started with a quick glance at the other, a search towards the clouds for an answer, eyes forward to trail ahead, then "Well, I usually...." Boots, path, peek, "So do you...?" Glance, clouds, trail, "Well, I usually..."
Shorty dug her hands into her pants, withdrew a tissue (the air was indeed, nose-dripping cold) and took care of business. This little action prompted a change in conversation. "Do you have allergies? I mean everything's in bloom," Refrig asked, sweeping her arm in the air to show her awareness of all the budding shrubs, flowers, and trees. "Oh, a little," Shorty said, "I just got a little chilled." Before I knew it, not 200 yards into our first date, Refrig put her lanky arm around Shorty's shoulders and rubbed Shorty's left arm in one of those comfy, warm-up moves.

Smooth move. Very subtle.

Gracie, Basco (see his cute pix in the margin), and I followed them for about 1/4 mile, until I couldn't handle the eaves-dropping any more. Besides, Gracie was about to explode from not running hither and dither and Basco just wanted to run up and meet the women ahead of him. He's blind, so he tends to bump into people as a means of introduction.

The dating scene. I applaud you who've ventured beyond the Over-40 Lesbian Speed Dating scene. I mean, talk about cut-throat! Of course, these two could have written down each other's number on their 3x5 cards and this is their official First Date after the "O-40LSD".

Sounds like an illicit drug, doesn't it? (Chamomile, mint, chai, and non-caffeinated teas don't count in this category).
****
Terry's been through a bit of the online flaky-dyke scene these past few months. She took the big step of putting her photos, profile, and ideal-match desires up for all girl-to-girl searchers to peruse. She's poked, elbowed, or nudged a few Lookers, and a few have nodded in her direction.
E-mails have exchanged, phone calls dialed with elongated discussions, even a couple coffee dates with eye-to-eye dialogues, and one movie. (I wouldn't suggest Marley & Me as a 1st date flick, btw). She's discovered, though that there are a lot of tentative women out there, not really wanting to respond to e-mails or make the plunge and get together, or as she discovered from one woman, She Just Wasn't Ready. Some women just aren't aware of themselves enough to get to know or accept another.

Aren't the early stages of dating, i.e., the first few months supposed to be those moments of putting the Best of Ourselves out there? By this chronological point, I'd expect that many women have a good idea of Who she is, What she wants, and How to achieve happiness in her life which, when she shows her great side(s) obviously includes mating/dating another.

Suggestions for you potential dates:
<>Learn to not spit (at least not while on a date).
<> wipe your mouths when eating red sauces.
<> to show up on time (or just show up).
<> to call when it's stated a call will be made, to not wear tooooo much perfume or extra scent,
<> and to be quasi-honest and, well, nice (aka, friendly, ) to the other. Generally speaking, being snarky and mean are a bit of a turn-off whether you're on a 1st,2nd, 5th, or even 10th date, or happen to be long-time friends and/or lovers/wives/mates.

Maybe the slow-mo, chain throwing, let's-get-our-energy-in-sync, O-40 Lesbian Dating Scenesters (not to be confused w/O40LSD) want this to be the penultimate One. Not a scene, per se, but a series of single events with just one person who's going to be la última for the remaining rounds of life. Hence, Coorda's touchy-feely, deep breathing sensory introduction serves some sort of purpose for the non-first impressionists out there.

It's tough, I tell you that much. Since we've all been through enough of life to know what does/doesn't work, let alone a greater awareness of those toreador red flags, when it comes to hooking up with the 'right' (or better?) someone the bar has been set far higher than the early 20s-discovering-who-we-are, 'you'll do in a pinch' limbo bar. Then there's a lot of horizontaling and drama. Now, in this O-40LDS (no religious affiliation, of course) there's quite a bit of horizontaling but it tends to show up after a few hiking, biking, coffeeing, yogaing, motorcycling, hand-holding, book-reading, kayaking, art museuming dates. Gawd, what happened to that First Kiss, that total connection and all that wild, real energy there? Lost to the Goddess of Process.

It's all a big ass process. Ugh. I suppose it's -- as they say in all the 12-step groups -- Process, not Perfection; or on a more Zen-ish plane, the Path not the Prize. Or, in a BossyBeeHive world, you have to dig through the weeds to find the flowers. Still, any flower that's technically a weed is really just a wild flower, right? And, many weeds are quite pretty (except Oxalis) so where does that leave the O-40 Lesbian Daters? I'm quite fond of the Prize, if you must know. Probably started when that awesome Black History television series Eyes on the Prize came out. No, it has nothing to do w/O-40 LDS, but the title certainly suited me

For all you O-40LDS chix, enjoy the discovery and steer clear of that glossy, lush Poison Oak while you gather and discard the pretty, the contrasting, and the coordinating colors of your dates & mates.
Who knows? Maybe there'll be a 4-leaf clover in the mix (and not just the blue clovers found in a box of Lucky Charms).

I think Shorty and Refrig are busy plucking flowers at this very moment.