Ammo Grrrll offers personal advice for single ladies in TRUMP MADE ME BREAK UP! She writes:

A story appeared a few days after the election about a poor, troubled woman who had just started a new relationship with a real live man, but now was so upset by the election of President Trump whom she feared and hated, that she felt compelled to end her new relationship and hunker down in terror. I say: “Run, guy! You dodged a bullet!”

Since Valentine’s Day was equidistant from last and this Friday, let’s discuss romance a few days late. Sometimes ladies observing my happy, long-term marriage (350 years in dog years) have asked me where to meet men. Most friends seeking companionship are not lifelong singles, but are widowed or divorced. Some have even asked me to fix them up. This has not gone at all well with one awesome exception.

One attempt many years ago led to an awkward dinner party that seemed to last for days. Though I liked both of the individual “fix-upees” a lot, the hostility between them was palpable. They could have set a land speed record by breaking up in advance before dating.

Ah, but that was nothing compared to the subtle attempt to seat an attractive, single Jewish woman next to a fit Israeli man at our Passover seder. As it happened, this macho man was a closeted gay guy, a rather important fact I learned later from my hairdresser whose friend was dating him. Oopsie. Some shadchen! (old country marriage broker). Luckily, they said, “Next year in Jerusalem” and each went their separate ways after the seder. No harm, no foul.

So I’m pretty much out of the shadchen business. I did retire a winner, fixing up one of my best friends with the best friend of the Paranoid Texan, and it is going swimmingly. I could be an ecstatic brides “maid” (or, technically, “matron” of honor, which unfortunately, conjures up an image of a large, stern woman in charge of a women’s prison) in the near future.

It does make me sad that many women looking for good men do not seem to know where to find them. I’m here to help. Movies are useless, with men and women always meeting “cute.” She drops her purse on the street, stuff falls all over, and a gorgeous man picks up her things. They bump heads going for the lipstick, eyes lock, hands touch. Most cities, you drop your purse on the street, you are never going to see its contents again, let alone the purse. If a guy does pick up stuff, he is likely to be a homeless guy lunging for your embarrassingly large secret stash of Fun Size Snickers.

Now (trigger warning) I’m about to get very cis-normative here, so grab some Play-Doh. Ladies, with rare exceptions, men are not going to be at your yoga class, your line dancing class or your card-making class. They may be at your flower arranging class, but will only notice the flowers, see above. So where do appropriate men hang out? You know, the kind who are never even momentarily ambivalent about which restroom to use.

You can look for a husband at the grocery store, another movie favorite, but they are likely to be someone else’s husband. With some impressive exceptions, single men do not shop or cook. Their fridges contain yogurt, mustard and bologna, many of which are expired, and beer. They go out a lot or eat things that can be microwaved and eaten on a paper plate or over the sink. If you do find a straight, single man who cooks, grab him!

Men do go to strip clubs, but unless you are the one “dancing” around the maypole, you are not likely to attract anyone’s notice. Lot of competition there. Heck, Mr. AG gets distracted by a fully-clothed rabbit on our walks; trying to get his attention with several naked women one-third my age in the room would be beyond my meager ability to enchant.

I noticed that there were a lot of men our age at Physical Therapy but, again, these tended to be married men. Single guys do not go to doctors. As Dave Barry says, men hope everything is a “sprain” that can be fixed with an Ace Bandage or denial. Men’s wives MAKE them go to doctors and monitor their rehab exercises. A carpenter who installed my new bookcases learned that I had a torn rotator cuff and promptly showed me that he had limited range of motion with his left arm. He said, “Do your exercises, ma’am! I was going through a divorce when this happened and had nobody to nag me to do them.”

And you guys say, “Don’t nag!” like it’s a bad thing…

Naturally, church or synagogue would be something to try. Many of these institutions even have clubs or outings for singles. But they will be heavily imbalanced toward the ladies. Mr. AG’s older brother says that in his Jewish senior singles group, simply not having a pot belly can elevate a man to the category of “hottie.”

Lastly, we come to one of the best places to meet men. A place where the male to female ratio is exceedingly favorable. A place where, for some reason, few women go on a regular basis. I’m talking, of course, about the gun range.

A marriage between two gun aficionados will not only provide a lifelong hobby to share, but could double your arsenal. Notice whether or not he has some cool guns. Notice whether or not he can reliably hit the target, a skill that translates to other skills, indicating dedication to patient practice and the wherewithal to afford a lot of ammo. Though much cheaper than golf, target shooting involves considerable expense. But it’s not the guns that will put the biggest crimp in your budget. It’s the ammo. Worth it, though!

An afterthought: Next year, when texting holiday wishes to friends, avoid the temptation to abbreviate Valentine’s Day. Happy VD is nothing to wake up to first thing in the morning.

And a big thank you to all the Facebook friends who believed the big fat lie I told nosy Facebook about my birth date. It wasn’t my birthday, but it warmed my heart that so many people sent kind greetings. Sir Walter Scott hit it on the nose when he wrote: “Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.” Next year, just wish me a Happy Birthday any time in October.