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 sixty-six
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 very 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 Frankenstein’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.
