The Dating Program

Just out of curiosity, I asked my good friend Bob to run my vital information through his computer dating program to see what kind of gal is supposedly right for me.

Bob started with some basic questions. I told him that I was seventy-three- years old, five feet, eight inches tall, and weighed about 175 pounds. My friend just shook his head.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“You’re not off to a good start,” he replied. “You’re old, short, and a few pounds overweight.”

“I don’t know about that,” I responded, holding in my gut and offering my best profile. “Maybe I should get a second opinion.”

“Okay, you’re also ugly. I’ll put that into the program. You know, there is a factor that can largely override those negative traits.”

“What’s that?”

“How much money do you have?”

“Counting my long-term investments, I’d say I’m worth twenty or thirty.”

“Twenty or thirty thousand?”

“No, just twenty or thirty bucks.”

“If you had at least a million bucks your negatives would be neutralized.”

“What does that mean?”

“It simply means that if you have enough money some ladies would overlook the fact that you are old, short, overweight, and ugly. Of course, you wouldn’t want to be fixed up with any gals like that.”

“Why not?”

“We put men and women of that caliber into the ‘gold-digger’ group. Those relationships have a high failure rate. When the money is gone so are they.”

Bob continued: “Can you sing?”

“My voice has been compared to Lucille Ball’s.”

“That would be a big ‘no.’”

“Do you play golf?”

“I’ve played a couple times. The last time out I had a 72.”

“Now we’re getting someplace. I can put down that you are a gifted golfer.”

“That 72 was on hole one; after that, it was too dark so I went home.”

“Scratch that. Do you have much traveling experience?”

“The last time I played basketball I was called for traveling three times.”

“No, knucklehead! I mean traveling to exotic places like Paris or London.”

“I get seasick and I’m scared to fly. Have they built a bridge to Europe yet?”

“Never mind. Have you won any awards?”

“” During my senior year in high school, I was picked as the ‘most forgettable person.’”

“That’s just great! What are your favorite foods?”

“Liver and onions and cauliflower.”

“What is your favorite wine?”

“Whatever is cheapest. Of course, I like it to be aged at least two or three days.”

“What is your favorite TV show?”

“The one with the purple dinosaur.”

At this point, Bob’s computer began to smoke and make strange hissing sounds, so he turned it off while we had lunch. About forty-five minutes later he continued plugging in information.

“What is your best trait?”

“I only snore two or three hours a night. The rest of the night I only talk in my sleep.”

“Do you belong to any clubs?”

“No. I wouldn’t want to belong to any organization that would accept someone like me.”

“Do you have a sense of humor?”

“With a face like this, I better have one.”

“Would you describe yourself as physically strong?”

“Yes. I’m definitely stronger compared to when I was twenty.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Well, when I was twenty I couldn’t hold twenty-five dollars worth of groceries in one arm; now I can. At this rate, I’ll have the strength of Superman by the time I’m eighty.”

“Okay. Let’s see what comes up.”

Usually, a client gets twenty to thirty matches. In my case, only one match appeared.

“I think this would be the perfect gal for you,” Bob explained. “As a matter of fact, I think she’s made just for you.”

The dating machine had picked the wife of Frankeinstein’s monster as my ideal mate. Maybe I‘d have a chance. She hated the monster, and unlike him, I’m not green and I don’t have bolts sticking out of my neck. And furthermore, most of my parts are original.