Now, when I moved to Storm Lake, Iowa — population around 10,000, 60 miles to the nearest bookstore, jazz bar, and ethnic food other than Mexican, I knew that chances were slim to nil that I’d find me a man. I mean, I’m over-educated, over-tall, overweight, over 40, and living in the middle of nowhere. But I had no real idea of the dating desert I had entered.
So, I’m at the dentist, getting my first check up in 4 years (grad school. ’nuff said) and the dentist and her assistant are chatting and I’m joining in as the hands in my mouth allow. It seems the assistant, about my age and with kids, no less, met a guy a few months before and they are quite happy. When my mouth is free, I ask, “where does one go to meet nice, single men in Storm Lake?” and she answers, without a hint of sarcasm, “I met him in Truesdale (nearby small town) at the midget wrestling.”
Good thing Ricky loves me. And hey, he may chase cats, but he doesn’t hog the bed, he doesn’t whine, he doesn’t make plans that require me to bring a hot dish and then forget to tell me, and he’s always up for a walk. Not bad — and I even met him online!