Facing middle age alone, I was determined to enter the Millennium Dating Age with a vengeance.  No more Ms. Alone for me!  Got the computer cranking, pressed the word "love" on this new found technological wonder, and then all I have to do is search for Mr. Right.  Dating in the good ole days was tougher than dating in this new age of boldness.  In my day, women felt it necessary to emulate Marilyn Monroe, who was beautiful, spoke in a soft sexy whisper and looked up at a man with big innocent eyes.  Wonderful, modern technology makes dating easy as touching your fingertips to the keyboard and asking for what you want.  I'd personally like a tall, self-sufficient John Travolta lookalike, except he has to be a Senior Citizen.  He must have a good job that pays enough to keep him and me in cruises and eating out at fine restaurants regularly.  My Travolta clone must also dance, pick up the check, open doors,and understand me and my hormones.  He must not have young children, nor a younger ex wife with whom I must compare myself, and he certainly must not have an ounce of baggage, as I have enough of my own for both of us to carry....altho naturally, my baggage is well hidden underneath this sparkling personality.  All I have to do now is push the "Select Him" button on the Loveline, and instantly my choices begin to appear on the monitor.
   No need to resemble Marilyn or any movie star these days because no one actually sees you or hears you on the computer, altho soon that will be a deterrent...technology moves so fast.  Simply select a flattering airbrushed photo of yourself, preferably a dozen or so years ago, and hit, "submit photo".  Add some fancy words to your personal profile, and it's important that you allude to, without ever actually telling a lie, that you are world traveled, brilliant, young in mind and heart, and that you are prepared to give love just one more chance.  Chat online, email abit, and soon the day arrives...."Let's meet in person day!" is here!
   I selected a cozy booth in a trendy bar, opened a hardback to give the impression of intellect; smiling sensuously, wearing pearl gloss lipstick, I know that I am sexy, even if I'm almost obsolete.  It's imperative that I casually appear to be interested in my surroundings, while maintaining a look oozing with confidence.
   Each man who walks in the door is inspected, dissected and eliminated as he dismisses me without a glance.  Ah....finally... Mr. Right stares at me with longing...as if he knew all along that I am Marilyn reincarnated.  I knew instantly that he was the one...that my natural instincts continue to be right on target.  My vision of a recycled John Travolta approaches, I notice he stops for a second to take a deep breath, intake my sheer lovliness, and then he heads for my cozy booth.  Just as I prepare to scoot over, make room for my future love to be, Mr. Right practically trips over my luggage sized purse sitting in the middle of the floor.  He is desperately trying to reach His Ms. Right, who is tapping her wristwatch with aggravation in her voice, and I hear her right behind me say, "What took you so long this time Charlie, I've been waiting in this stupid bar for almost an hour!"