“Life ain’t easy, I’m tellin’ you what everybody said; Yeah, they beat that horse until it’s dead; Open your window, open your heart, open your eyes and see ..."

I dance around the kitchen to the likes of Cross-Canadian Ragweed, Bleu Edmondson, and Shane Smith and the Saints clearing space for the new appliances that are set to arrive tomorrow. I sip wine and mimic moves I remember from “Dirty Dancing,” while getting lost in my thoughts.

I recently decided to return to the online dating scene with a different mindset than last year, which I reiterated, continuously, to my mom after her “Brandy” reached an unusually high pitch. This year’s goal – date, fall in love, and be in a relationship. Though, I’m not entirely sure on the order.

Within the first several days, I virtually met several men, one of whom asked me out. Then, Tinder did away with the age range and both boys and men saw my profile. A nineteen-year-old showed interest and I threw up in my mouth. Then, a twenty-two-year-old; a twenty-five-year-old, and a twenty-seven-year-old. The ick didn’t go away.

A thirty-five-year-old who reversed his age to be fifty-three, asked me if I like “BWC.” I had to Google it. This time, heart burn set in.

A man pretending to be forty-nine without a trace of gray in his beard asked if I’d like to start a serious relationship as he told me he worked overseas in Scotland and called New Mexico home.

Hard pass.

Another man asked me how I was, when I typed the answer, the same question appeared … twice. Before landing on Plenty of Fish, I tried dating sites advertised on Facebook only to discover the search is narrowed to country, not region, state, or zip code. China, Australia, California, and even Manhattan are out.

On Plenty of Fish, I received chats from men of a more respectable age who wanted a pen pal or say they can fix things around the house. Is that supposed to be impressive? I can do that, too. I can also bench seventy-five pounds and squat two-hundred twelve pounds. Earlier this week, I discovered I can also fix a stuck bathtub drain with trip lever.

Why is finding a happy medium so challenging? Never mind, I know the answer. The generation of strong, chivalrous, and loyal men are few and far between.

My dad was one of them. He loved my mom, my sister, and me, and epitomized a “family man.” Recently, I found the baby book my mom had made for me. Her notes, impeccable. She treated it as a scrapbook with “firsts,” messages, cards, and pictures. My dad sent her flowers and the card attached read, “Thank you for our baby.”

With the advancement of technology, particularly in dating sites, loyalty is fleeting. Honesty and worthwhile communication is hit or miss. The likelihood of meeting a good man is anyone’s guess and sadly, it’s unlikely to come from an organic meeting. Although one man tried to call me out on it.

In our limited chat, he asked which town I reside in. When it was determined we live in the same one, I asked which part of it. He was suddenly offended that I rejected his offer to text him with the number he provided and said my question hit too close to home. He pointed out if we met in person at a gas station, we wouldn’t have to bother with this nonsense.

I agreed, but we didn’t meet at a gas station and our town has sixty-thousand residents, so here we are. I did offer to meet him at a gas station. He “unmatched” me.

Now, I realize he likely wanted to send me a photo of his manhood, which does nothing for me. Just because he has one, doesn’t mean he knows how to use it. Take my ex, for example, he epitomizes the “Coed Naked Tennis” tagline for the t-shirts manufactured in the 1990s. “It’s in, it’s out, it’s over.”

The experience has definitively narrowed my list of what’s not acceptable in a potential date.

* No one younger than 39

* No one shorter than 5’9”

* No selfies taken in a bathroom

* No couples looking to be a thrupple * No one with my ex’s name or my dad’s name * No headless or faceless pictures

* No scenery, motorcycle, truck, or food photos * No age or location equals no response * No “open relationships,” “polyamory,” or “ethical non-monogamy”

* No hardcore political alignments, badmouthing exes, or angry profiles in general * No conversations that last days without asking for a date

While it seems no one is left, there are a few that have caught my eye. One even gave the best answer when I texted, “Random question: When’s your birthday?” He replied: “Random answer. Mauve.”

All hope is not lost.