Lonely? Place an Ad! (Maybe).

Classified Romance From the Male Point of View

 
By Greg G. Bell

 
Dallas Singles
7363 words precisely
Copyright 1989 by Greg G. Bell
Non-Fiction

 


Thirty years ago classified singles ads were something "nice people" didn't indulge in. No "decent" person placed or responded to them. It wasn't even socially healthy to be caught reading them.

Twenty years ago that perception was thinking about changing, but had made no significant strides.

By 1980 the phenomenon exploded, and classified singles ads were, in most parts of the country and throughout most social and economic classes, acceptable, and even somewhat "chic". Today, how are they viewed? The boom has passed and they are slipping in popularity. Why?

The reason is that while classified ads might, can, and seemingly should work, they usually don't. Through the seventies a lot of people tried them, and a lot of people came to realize their shortcomings. That experience got passed along, and folks today know why folks in the fifties shied away from them.

Mostly the problem lies in quirks of human nature. It has been said that when a person places a classified singles ad, there is a reason why he or she cannot find romance in any other way. Is this always or automatically true? No. But it is valid often enough to make the business of seeking love through classified ads very tedious work.

Some people may have been "cooped up" in an unsatisfactory marriage or unrewarding live-in relationship, and when it finally fails they're left with little or no social network to help them through the new and scary dating game. An ad may be appropriate for them, and they may have more to offer a new relationship than they realize.

Many people, perhaps men most of all, are excruciatingly shy. That has been my own biggest debility. I also spend much time at sea and in remote corners of the world, and I move around a great deal, being the epitome of the rolling stone, which leaves little social network through which to meet someone. There are people who legitimately need the services of a classified ad-- people who are valuable and worthwhile and interesting and attractive and who would make someone a fine friend or lifelong mate, if only they could connect.

And then there are............the leftovers.

I've placed nineteen ads in five regional publications and two national magazines. I've received a total of 455 replies. I am, as of this writing, unattached. That tells you that either I am completely unmatchable (one of the leftovers), or that the quality of people answering those ads is often substandard. So which is it? Let's try to find out.

Of all those replies, we can cull a large percentage right off the top-- they being people who are not suitable for anyone, at least not until they've spent a few hundred sessions in psychotherapy. Often, as soon as you talk on the phone, read the first reply to your ad, or meet the person in person, you know instantly WHY they are still unattached.

The type and caliber of individual who responds to a classified singles ad is dictated also to a large degree by the wording of the ad, somewhat by geographical location and its prevailing mentality and attitudes, and in some part by the character of the particular publication you advertise in.

For instance, I performed an experiment many years ago while logging on to a computerized dating service with my modem. I filled out a questionnaire that showed me to be utterly reliable, trustworthy, went to bed at nine, worked hard, provided a nice home for myself and my dog, didn't believe in sex until the second year of marriage-- You know, a veritable Woody Allen. I punched the key and the computer matched me with six ladies of similar interests, habits and tastes.

Then I filled out another questionnaire under a fictitious name, portraying myself as "Mr. Party". I drank, smoked, took any drug I could ingest by whatever means I could ingest it, believed in sex in the first thirty seconds of every relationship, did not believe in monogamy, etc. etc. etc. And I was promptly matched with 112 nice, wholesome girls who couldn't wait to meet me. What's the moral? What women say they want in a man, is seldom what they want in a man.

To further demonstrate how the wording of an ad can be a factor in the type of responses it elicits, consider the following:

I had been placing ads in a particular publication in a large western city. They were all similar in length and, I thought, in context. When I received a large number of replies from a type of person I didn't care to hear from, I would rewrite the ad and run it again, trying to be more specific. I was averaging from six to twelve replies per ad when I ran one that seemed substantially similar to all the others, with only subtle changes in wording, in the same publication. Yet it brought 131 replies in one week.

From that ad I received two bona fide death threats of the generic variety. Of course the phantom writers were no danger, as all ad replies went first to the publication office, then were directed out again to the customer. Something in the ad, however, had appealed to the kook mentality. About 3% of replies were always incoherent, though not usually threatening.

25% of the women I interacted with related stories of problems they had had with men they met through ads. None were apparently life threatening, but many were certainly disconcerting and should not have occurred. They ranged from men who made improper or inappropriate advances towards them (about two thirds of these disturbed little boys were of that variety), to men who bothered them to such an extent that they were forced to change telephone numbers, or in some cases, relocate or change jobs (the remaining one third of problem cases were of this magnitude). Such tales should boil the blood of anyone. And I'm the first to admit that today's America has raised up a bumper crop of cowardly jerks, and very few men.. Still, it must be remembered that 75% (three quarters) of the women I met or talked to, had had no trouble at all with "weirdo's" they met through singles ads.

About eight percent of replies were from married women who just wanted to talk. Some were up-front about it; some only intimated their status. Some left it to me to discover on my own. I answered one or two of those, but did not become involved, and did not (knowingly) meet any of them, not necessarily because of a moral standard that prevented me from talking with married women--- but merely because none happened to pique my interest.

Fifteen percent came from young girls who'd had a small tiff with their boyfriends, and wanted to "get even". Some merely wanted the private satisfaction of knowing another man would talk to them or show an interest in them. Some made sure their boyfriends were aware of their reply to a classified singles ad. I had one or two minor problems with boyfriends-- but how troublesome can they be when they only have a P.O. Box number? ALL of these silly girls had lost interest in meeting me by the time I got back to them. That alone was a colossal waste of my time and theirs, and no girl over 23 pulled that particular stunt---which makes the problem quite easily avoided.

About sixty percent responded to my ads with their home address, their home phone, and a statement to the effect that they lived alone, or with a small child. I found this figure astounding and utterly irresponsible. It's nice to think we can trust folks, but in this society, we too often cannot, and any woman who has an even marginally accurate sense of reality should know that. I did ultimately answer back to a number of those replies, but I usually found the girls to be very naive. Still, I would not have discounted the chance of a permanent relationship because of mere naiveté. After all, I've been "innocent" (stupid) in my life too, and it could be said that we're all naive to varying degrees, and that we always will be. But relationships with these girls didn't materialize for other additional reasons.

I received a number of replies over the years from women who simply "told" me to meet them at a particular place at a particular time. Usually it was a bar-- sometimes a supermarket; once at a miniature golf course. On one occasion I was commanded to appear at the woman's apartment late one night, wearing certain clothing. I was to enter the home and proceed to the bedroom, where I would "know what to do then". This woman had not even sent me a picture of herself or asked if I would like to meet her! Neither had she seen a picture of me or received a letter from me in reply to her reply-- I declined her kind offer, and received a nasty note several days later, routed through the original ad code, for not showing up. I didn't show up for any such requests. Maybe that's why I'm still single!

In my ads I asked for "slender". I've been criticized ad nauseam for that-- and I admit that there may be validity in that reprobation. It really is what's inside that counts. Yes, but it's not all that counts! I wasn't only looking for physical attraction, but I was looking for it. A relationship needs several things to succeed. One absolutely necessary ingredient is intellectual compatibility. Another ingredient is physical attraction. But a relationship can't survive on lust alone, any more than on a purely intellectual magnetism by itself. True, two people must be able to communicate in some meaningful way, and must also enjoy doing so. Without a merging of the minds, we have only cheap sex. But without physical attraction we have what's known as "just friends". I wanted more than cheap sex-- but I also wanted more than just friends.

To more fully understand what part physical attraction plays in modern romantic relationships, try a hypothetical experiment which removes the intellectual attraction from any relationship you can think of. Far too many will proceed on as if nothing had happened or changed. Now remove sex from any relationships you like-- and watch many of them crumble to dust. Of course it's not "right". But it's too often real.

I asked for "slender" in my ads, and I refuse to apologize for it. But that one word elicited a number of angry responses from overweight women. I empathize with them, I might have wanted to be their "friend", but I didn't care to indulge them physically. If they are unhappy with their form, my suggestion to them is to change their lifestyle, and to keep changing it until they lose as much weight as desired. Diets alone won't usually do it. In extensive travels throughout the western hemisphere I've found that geographical changes alone can often make a plump figure slim. Rainy climates often produce an overweight population, while mild, sunny locales give folks an opportunity to get out and have a life-- which tends to keep them trim. Diets alone, to reiterate, are seldom a lasting cure.

But even though I specifically requested "slender", fully seventy five percent (75%!) of replies, from all ads in all regions in all publications (except one strange ad which will be detailed later), came from women who were significantly overweight. In many cases they simply did not read the word "slender" in the ad. Call it a "Freudian Oversight". In many cases they DID read the word, but consciously chose to ignore it, thinking they were not that overweight-- or thinking that once I got to know them, their weight wouldn't matter to me. If they "waddled", however, they were overweight, and most waddled appallingly. If they needed help to step onto the deck of my boat, they were overweight. If they became out of breath walking across a room, they were overweight!

If some men like large women, that's fine. If some men don't, that should be equally fine. Some men like freckles. Some men don't. Some men like quiet, introverted ladies. Others like outgoing, active girls. Some women like tall, muscular men. Some like, well, Woody Allen! (watch me get an obscene call from him). Anyway, there's no "good or bad" to it-- it's only a matter of taste. My taste runs to slender, somewhat athletic women (no body builders, please). Too bad if someone has a problem with that.

I usually asked for a picture. The heavy or irrefutably unattractive respondents either did not send a picture, saying they did not have one, or they sent one from ten (or more) years earlier, or, in half a dozen cases, they sent pictures of neighbors, friends or sisters. Even pictures from a year before can be grossly deceiving. Many times I explained to ladies the trouble I had had with women who flagrantly misrepresented themselves in their letters and photos, and those women would write back and say that they too had placed an ad a month or a year before, and had experienced the same disappointing phenomenon. Sometimes we traded such stories for several weeks before meeting. And in almost every case, they were a prime example of blatant misrepresentation.. Am I also a classic example of misrepresentation? Like Popeye says, "lyam what Iyam". I always sent an accurate, up to date photo, and I told them what the scale actually said.

In one case I corresponded with a 35 year old lady for a month before I drove one thousand miles to meet her. She was my own age. We had traded eight or ten pictures and perhaps three hundred pages of written correspondence. We talked on the phone to the tune of a hundred dollars. Then I drove cross country, mostly in love already. I knocked on the door and my beloved's mother answered-- But wait-- it wasn't her mother at all. She was 64. Her faced was old and wrinkled; her hair was gray, her back was hunched and she was frail as a bird. The pictures she had sent me were from thirty years before! She had been stunningly attractive at 35 and would probably appear still physically attractive to someone her own age. I visited her a couple of times over the next few days, as I positively loved her company and deeply enjoyed her sharp-witted conversation. But she became sexually pushy and even obnoxious-- and I was left no choice but to end the relationship. I swore then and there to never place another ad. Never! But I did. Placing an ad is too much like fishing. You might catch nothing but Rat Fish or old boots for years, but every time you drop your line in the water, there's that chance, no matter how slim, of coming up with a beautiful salmon. Some people just gotta try to beat the odds.

About fifteen percent of replies were from women who were downright scary looking. They were a minus value on the vulgar "one to ten" scale, though nearly all had assured me in writing that they were gorgeous. In many cases, when I met them, I was rendered completely speechless.

And I heard the same complaints from ladies who placed ads looking for attractive men. They would, for instance, specify that they liked a ruggedly handsome man-- and ten albino bald men with bug eyes, oozing skin sores and a somewhat disconcerting third ear would write them, apologizing for the lack of a current photograph, but promising they (the ladies) would not be disappointed.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, that's for sure. And I have no doubt that someone, somewhere, would find these men the answer to their prayers. I do recall the love story of the Bearded Lady and the Alligator Man. It's an honestly beautiful tale, and true, and perhaps they are two people who've evolved far beyond the adolescent vanity of most of us these days. Still, call me shallow, the Elephant Woman does not turn me on from a physical point of view-- and I was hoping to be turned on.

It's important to include an accurate and current picture of yourself. If you're not prepared to do so, perhaps classified ads are not for you. It's even more important to include several pictures. I evolved to refuse to meet any woman without having seen at least one or two pictures. Believe me, I know how shallow that sounds, but experience teaches us many things.

But even if a photo album is sent, pictures cannot tell the whole story. I've received pictures that were frankly quite unattractive-- but something in their letters has spurred me to meet them-- and I found them, in person, irresistible.

Honesty is almost always the best policy-- as the truth will unavoidably come out sooner or later anyway. Why waste time, energy and postage on a cheap ruse that's destined to fail? Too many ladies (and men) seem to adhere to the ancient (mis)conception that if they can just get the person "hooked" in the first place, through whatever devious means or falsities, they'll be theirs forever. They are unwilling to let the relationship stand --or fail-- of its own accord on its own merits or shortcomings. They steadfastly refuse to understand that TRUTH..................is the only forever. There is a line in a movie that was never more true. It says, "It's funny how the first resentments.....always end up being the last resentments."

A percentage of women were freshly divorced and were eager to point that out. Some had enjoyed the context of a "permanent" and meaningful relationship, and were hoping to find another, albeit this time, one that would last. The vast majority, however, were intoxicated with their new freedom, and were out to make up for lost time and to sow some wild oats. And nothing more. They were like kids in a candy store-- suddenly having found in their pocket a hundred dollars cash. I grew to avoid this group of females, as only frustration and heartache could come from them. Usually, however, in a year or two they wafted back to earth and were anxious to settle down in a monogamous relationship. By then I was gone.

I also came to notice a pattern with the above group. It was that their first relationship after the termination of a long one was almost certainly fated for a fiery crash after only a short and halfhearted attempt to get off the ground. That was not always the case, but it was true often enough to lend credibility to the wive's tale.

Reading the ad seemed to be something the majority of respondents had trouble with. I was adamant that I was, for instance, an "outdoors" oriented man, that I lived to camp, and that I had the greatest desire to do more world traveling by whatever means-- Yet fully ninety percent (90%) of the replies I received were from ladies who may have been very nice, but who shuddered openly at the thought of camping with "all those bugs", or of leaving the security of their office job for half a year of materialistic uncertainty in North Africa. They would, however, answer my ads with common phrases like "we are so alike", or "we are obviously soul mates", or, even, "we are beyond soul mates".

Often I stated in my ads that I was looking for a sailing companion, yet I would sift through reply after reply after bundles of replies that stated they hated the water and got seasick every time they thought about boats. Then why did they reply?

I have a deep and profound love of horses, for example, and my ads nearly always reflected that, and asked for something approaching the same appreciation for the critters. In reply, I would receive bags of letters, flatly denouncing the stinking beasts-- which was a neon indication that we probably weren't on the same wavelength, and that there was no reason for them to have replied in the first place..

Friends have placed singles ads stating that there was not enough money in the world to pay them to camp outdoors even one night, yet ladies would answer in droves, listing their most favorite activity as camping at the lake. One more time: Why did they reply??!!

About four percent (4%) of replies came from ladies who simply hated men and were looking for some chink in the armor through which they could insert a sharp instrument and then, if possible, pour some salt. I understand their disappointment in the gender, probably more clearly than they do-- but please ladies, take out your frustrations on someone else. I simply don't have time for it.

I began placing ads as a ridiculously trusting and open man. But increasingly, I tightened my emotional chain-mail, and gave them no such opportunity to wound me. The men haters became reasonably easy to spot in time, and, honestly, there were not that many of them.

About three percent of replies came from ladies who stated flatly that they were not looking for a relationship at all. I didn't bother to ask them why they responded.

Quite a few women made sure I understood that they were only looking for a "part time" or "casual" or "convenient" relationship. But call me naive, I still believe in forever, and I was looking for more. I specified that I was looking for a permanent relationship and I made no bones about it in my ads-- but people only hear what they wish to hear, and they read in an ad only those words which appeal to them, subliminally ignoring the rest.

I made the mistake once of asking for "No heavy religion, please", as I'd received too many replies that were merely rambling rewrites of Bible Scriptures. I was promptly deluged with bags of replies from born-again ladies who were convinced I needed saving from the devil.

I asked for replies from ladies in my own age group, 28 to 45, yet more than half were far out of that range, the youngest being 14, the oldest 69. Why?

About five percent of first-time replies were sexually explicit, which was, I'm left to assume, a turn-on for the respondent. Some included nude pictures, or long, carefully written fantasies or highly detailed sexual requests or descriptions of love affairs with vibrators that were "more dependable than men". Privately, I wished them success in finding a sale on batteries-- and I did not respond. While I was certainly open minded enough to entertain or even enjoy such correspondence in the context of a well developed and meaningful relationship, I felt that a woman who replied the first time to an ad with such things, having, really, no sound idea of whom she was writing to, was probably a woman who had more problems than I cared to become involved with. Often their words were quite intelligent and even showed talent (from a literary point of view!) but the first reply to an ad is not the place for such liberties.

Fully twenty percent of all women who replied were "just curious", or only mildly interested by their own admission. Many merely wanted to know if someone would write back to them-- they never planned to pursue the possibilities at all.

Many stated flatly in the first reply that they did not care to get to know someone who lived more than five miles away, or in the next county, or even on a different side of town from them or in a different neighborhood. I found that incredible, and it caused me to reassess my own unquestioning willingness to drive a thousand miles to meet one woman. I would fly to the moon for the right girl. I would crawl across deserts, fight dragons, slay sea monsters-- and think nothing of it. Who were these girls who could not be bothered to drive five miles to a neighboring suburb?

A great many girls expressed their unwillingness to call me if it was be long distance. Is there really such a surplus of decent men in the world that when they come along they can be so airily dismissed for such flimsy inconvenience? At first I found such laziness reprehensible, and it certainly demonstrates why so many American women cannot find what they want. They simply refuse to try. But I eventually recognized their reluctance to put forth the effort to meet me as a blessing in disguise, for if they could not be bothered to drive across town toward the possibility (however promising or remote) of life-long love in the first place, then they probably also could not be bothered to work through the inevitable little trials and tribulations that every relationship encounters, and any entanglement with them would therefore be short-lived at best. That phenomenon is the signature left by a "fast-food" society. If many of today's singles cannot be gratified instantly, they often just flit along to the next and the next and the next, only to eventually discover that they never got "gratified" at all. And by then it's too late.

A few women had such hectic professional (or social) schedules that they couldn't possibly fit a romantic relationship into their calendars. They didn't have time for a single date. Again, why did they reply?

Some had several boyfriends already, and were only hoping to add to the complement. Some girls don't want a real boyfriend at all, but delight in playing a game of "How many men can I interest?" It's a social juggling act. I'd had enough of that particular breed of female, and so has the rest of the world..

Surprisingly few women were "fortune hunting". Those few were obvious. And none were apparently out to steal from me or to "set me up" for some evil purpose. I had expected to see at least some of that.

I received several replies from gay men, transsexuals and lesbian women which tended to be measurably more genuine, heartfelt and up-front than superficial replies from middle class heterosexual yuppy women. I can easily understand why some women turn to women, rejecting men. My God, look what they've got to choose from in America today! Perhaps someday I'll even understand why men turn to men.

I received replies from a number of men who only wanted to know how I had done with a particular ad, or if I had met and rejected anyone who might be better suited for them. Sometimes I replied, sometimes not. Most were not men I would have recommended to any woman.

I received a number of replies from ladies who were dangerously lonely, or who stated bluntly that they were nymphomaniacs, and if I would care to call them or come over, I could do "anything I wanted". These ladies plunged me into an abyss of depression, for I could not help them.

Of all the emotions I've felt as a result of reading replies or of meeting approximately two hundred and sixty women through classified singles ads, and those feelings have run the gamut, there is one that will always haunt my memories. It is the utter, abject sadness I felt for the loneliness of so many human beings, male and female. It is extreme and profound, more prevalent and widespread in the world than I could have ever dreamed, and it wrenched at my heart as nothing in my life has before.

In the early days I would respond to replies that obviously held no promise of a developing relationship, with the perfectly altruistic hope of trying to reassure the person that there were men in the world who were not out to take advantage of them; who would, come hell or high water, never lay a hand on them in anger because it was simply not in thir nature, and that there were men who were kind and decent and honorable and reliable, who would in all contexts and situations treat them as an absolute equal, not because it was "in" or "trendy" or was a "stylish" thing to do, but merely because they were an equal; and that there existed men who were, as well as men CAN be with all their crudities and absurd shortcomings, compassionate and understanding and capable of true, forever love. It was a message that I felt they desperately needed to hear, and I tried to relay it to them with all the sincerity in my soul.

In some cases I was to discover that I was reaching out to nothing more than an indecent ploy-- the "helpless, abused little girl act", and some women play the part well. But in the vast majority of cases, the ladies really HAD had a tough time in life and romance, and they needed, begged for and craved just a sampling of decency and honor and gentleness from the male of the species, to reassure themselves that it still existed in small, obscure corners of society. Well, by God it does exist. But I was to learn that it was not my responsibility to spend my life reassuring lonely women with whom I had no future even as "just friends".

As a result of one early ad alone, which brought only some forty five replies, I embarked on a mission of selfless correspondence that used up 3000 sheets of computer paper, some $300 in postage, $200 in printer ribbons, (one printer itself), and every waking moment for several months. I would begin by answering a lengthy and heartfelt reply to my ad with a short note, encouraging them not to give up looking for happiness, but to reply to a few more ads, or to make an effort to get out and meet people, to join clubs, groups, take a night class, look for interesting activities-- or maybe the message was to NOT consider suicide but to look for some help. My friends told me simply: "Physician, Heal Thyself". In most cases I did not enclose a return address with these notes of encouragement, as I did not wish the correspondence to continue, but was only trying to be polite. Many, however, would write back by routing their letters through the original ad code or publication. Of course, being naive and "too nice for my own good", as my constantly amazed friends always said, I would be helplessly compelled to reply to their reply-- and it would go on and on until I finally stopped answering their letters Cold Turkey-- which made me feel worse than if I had not responded to the first one. It was a hard lesson for me, and my ultimate solution to it was to screen the replies when they first came in, and if it was obvious there was no point in pursuing a relationship, I would quickly burn their letters and envelopes. I knew that if I kept them overnight-- even for an hour, I would talk myself into replying, and the whole cycle would begin again.

Another common claim women make in their letters to men, is that "I am the most attractive girl my friends have ever seen", or "men tell me that I am the prettiest/most desirable/most gorgeous woman they have ever dated/seen/kissed/slept-with", etc.. In most of these cases I found them particularly unattractive (could it be the inner conceit showing through?), and in a few instances I ran into significant problems when I either ceased correspondence, or refused to date them at all, or even did not let things progress as rapidly as they wished. In the former case, I would often receive a horrible, nasty, cutting editorial in response to my too-polite letter stating that we had different interests and lifestyles, and that perhaps it was best if we did not pursue the relationship. All of the women mentioned above were ladies that I had only written to once or met one time for not more than an hour, and had never come close to kissing. One such situation turned into a near "Fatal Attraction" problem, which required the services of the local police to stop. I was frankly shocked at the unabashed amour-propre of many respondents, even though I understood their self-centered attitude to be mostly a conditioned reflex. And it seemed as though the girls who really were attractive or cute or genuinely desirable were invariably at least somewhat shy and they usually thought of themselves as undesirable, and had barely mustered the resolve to write to me at all. That held true in virtually every case in which these egotistical ladies worked so hard at convincing me they were God's gift to the male. The harder they worked to convince me of this, the more objectionable, physically and spiritually, I found them.

I also received replies from the insanely jealous type. It was obvious they went from one heart rending, explosive relationship to another, like a small child who wants desperately to hold a bird in its hand. The tighter you try to hold onto something, the more insistent it becomes on having its freedom. To hold or to "own" someone isn't love anyway-- it's just jealousy and possessiveness. The flower of love has a tough time flourishing when choked by the weed of jealousy. Did I say I never felt jealousy? No. But at least I can see it for the rotten, illegitimate thing it is.

A pet peeve of anyone who deals in singles ads is the "form letter" reply. I received a great many photocopied letters of the generic variety from ladies who were just trying their luck, and they figured there was some advantage to sheer volume. For the most part, I didn't answer photocopied form letters that were sent en masse to hundreds of men. Neither did I pursue ladies who weren't sure which ad I had placed when I answered their initial reply with a phone call. "Oh, I'm SO glad you called," they'd say coyly over the phone. "Now, just which one are you?"

Please ladies, one man at a time!

Still another disturbing phenomenon were the women, and there were dozens of them, who would repeatedly answer different ads I placed over the months or years, always using the same opening line: "I've never responded to one of these things before, and I feel so funny about writing to you now. But your ad sounded different and I couldn't help---"

Well, maybe my ad DID sound different, but Ma'am, you do not! You've answered six of my ads already this year!

All of my experiences from all the ads in all the states in all the papers and magazines were essentially and inherently the same, with one aforementioned exception:

I placed a run-of-the-mill ad in a particular publication that I had not tried before. It was quite an expensive rag, costing me several hundred dollars for a short, one time ad of fifty words. I felt I needed to upgrade the class of women I was meeting, and I thought this extra expenditure would do the trick--

The ad brought about twenty replies, all from exceptionally attractive ladies, if those were their actual pictures. But without exception, they were so sickeningly clever, so disgustingly cute, so smug and tricky and arrogant and blatantly, shamelessly vain and full of smarm and full of "it" (and of themselves) that it almost made me wretch. I picked up their sweetly perfumed letters with tweezers and dumped the lot in the trash, replying to not a one.

Does that mean that physically attractive women are spiritually undesirable? Of course not. It simply means that that particular publication enjoyed a very narrow and specific readership.

Of all the boring replies and all the uncomfortable meetings which made fifteen minutes pass like six hours, I found three ladies with whom the chemistry was strong enough for me to wish to pursue a relationship on more than a "just friends" level. Am I hard to please? Not at all, although many overweight women who I did not find attractive have accused me of being so... The reality is that I see many beautiful women in my daily life-- women who far exceed my "standards" of physical attraction AND character AND spirituality. But I seldom meet them through classified ads.

Unfortunately, in daily life, we meet people we are attracted to visually, easiest of all, and then we must get to know their thoughts and their hearts and ascertain whether or not we also like them emotionally or intellectually, or whether their life goals and interests and passions and morals are similar to ours.

Through the veil of classified ads, however, we meet the inside of the person first, often to discover that the outside does not meet our expectations or requirements for a physical relationship, and that the chemistry is not strong enough to support a "complete" relationship. And often we discover that we don't like the inside of a person we thought we loved, when the candy coating of the outside is rendered transparent.

Still, there were, as I've said, the three from the ads.......

The first was a pretty girl, intelligent-- loved horses and the water as much as I did. She seemed to genuinely like me too, and I had high hopes, and was almost giddy after our first ride through the forest together. But she met someone else who she liked more, before our second date. I think she mentioned that he was the attendant who filled up her car on the way home from our first encounter.

The second was a girl who liked animals even more than I did-- could out-ride me on any bronc, who sailed and camped and talked philosophy all night long-- a trait I found most endearing. But she had this problem. At least it was to become MY problem-- not hers. She still slept with the man she'd divorced five years before, and didn't plan to stop. She was incensed when I told her that I could not enter into a long term relationship under such circumstances. She wrote me a lengthy letter explaining that I would "never find anyone", if that's how I was. Call me a narrow minded prude if you must; I did not see her again.

The third and last was a gorgeous girl, a highly intelligent woman who I loved at first sight. I felt I had truly, at long last, found my soul mate. But she didn't love me, and that hurt.

Do I recommend classified ads as a means of meeting someone?

Yes. No. And Maybe. All with equal enthusiasm.

Someone once likened the classified love scene to a swap meet. Lots of people bring their goods on Saturday morning-- and most go back home on Saturday afternoon with those same unsold goods. Usually the stuff isn't nearly so nice as the owner thinks, and the prices are just too high.

I began placing ads so long ago, naively assuming that to find a nice, simply attractive and sincere girl who wanted a nice, simply attractive and sincere boyfriend would be an effortless endeavor. Yet I found it to be a virtual impossibility. I don't know where such "normal" women are-- but I confess I cannot find them.

I've noticed a curious change in myself over the course of these years of so actively seeking "true love". It is that I no longer try very hard. Perhaps I'm simply tired. Perhaps my needs have changed. Perhaps I've learned that it just isn't worth the trouble. It seems as though the one thing we want most in life is the one thing we are destined never to have. Sooner or later, we just stop wanting it. My waning interest might also be due to the fact that in considering my classified ad experience on the whole, from the stable perspective of years later, I've come to realize that almost all of the ladies I ever met or interacted with were just plain flakes.

I've known any number of single men who've placed ads, sometimes at my urging, whose experiences have been nearly identical to mine. The luck of most ladies has been no better. There have been many marriages and long term romances spawned in the classified section, but in relation to the number of people trying, the successes seem insignificant. With all its shortcomings and pitfalls, and as much as I shudder at the thought of such places, a singles bar seems to offer more hope to the lonely. Perhaps a local church group activity offers even more potential, even if you're not religious.

I've looked for "real" love all these years, and haven't found it. I may ask for a lot-- but who doesn't? More importantly, who shouldn't? Settling for less is a temporary measure at best. Too bad so many people fall into that quicksand bog. It generally takes about fifteen years to crawl back to solid ground.

I've learned a great deal about women, people and human nature through 12 years of classified singles ads. I've learned that words between people, no matter how pretty or apparently genuine, mean little. What has value is a pattern of actions.

And I've learned a lot about myself. I've come to terms with the fact that I am not nearly so desirable, inside or out, as I once thought-- or, perhaps, as I once was. I remember the shock of the 64 year old lady who honestly believed I would think she was still 35. My heart clutches when I remember how difficult it was for her to admit her true age to me-- and to herself. I've tried to apply that lesson to myself, as I age and become less flexible of thought and my own personal template of "the perfect girl" becomes narrower and harder to find a fit for, and as my youthful good looks slip irretrievably away.

I've learned that everybody can't like everybody. I've learned that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and no where else. And I've learned that almost everyone, in the pit of their soul, is as lonely as me.

Over the years I've looked for physical attraction-- which is NOT the same thing as "beauty". Either the chemistry clicks, or it doesn't. I find Christi Brinkley not attractive at all, for instance-- but Jane Fonda is irresistible. I find Connie Chung almost ugly, yet Marlo Thomas is, to me, a dream girl. What you find attractive or desirable is all that counts.

Personal taste is everything in a relationship. Yet there's no accounting for it, and we shouldn't try. Human beings like what they like and it's futile to wonder, or care, at the meaning of it.

I'm no one's Prince Charming, and my white horse is a bit ragged and tattered around the mane these days. He's tired and sometimes lame. And his footing in rough ground is a bit unsure. Still, I try as hard as I know how to be a good man. And all I can do is hope that's enough.

Through the years I've looked for a woman with a hint of ruggedness (not rough edges).

I look for some authentic class (not shallow vanity), some honor (almost no one knows what that means anymore), a sense of humor (as opposed to "a sense of vulgar"), a huge portion of reliability, a blazing passion for truth, an appreciation of precision and correctness, and an acceptance of reality no matter how uncomfortable or inconvenient it may be....

I look for some raw guts (which can be carried with true class), a certain tenacity, and a bluntness when abrupt is appropriate.

I look for a girl who's utterly intrepid (those are rare), and with a sensitivity and tact when genuine caring is due, and a degree of Rockwell Hardness, tempered with experience, compassion, wisdom and an open mind.

I sail the oceans at my whim and struggle to write things of value-- I'll need a companion with a sense of adventure, an imagination, and an appreciation of solitude, tranquility and patience. I guess that's a tall order in today's disposable society of cheap thrills and instant gratification-- but if it's all the same to the reader, I'll keep looking. I might even place an ad.

You never know who might answer...