I’ll admit it. I was lonely.

I was in a terrible place, emotionally. Dennis had stopped returning my calls and I knew that our on-again-off-again relationship had been toggled to the off position for the last time.

It was a Saturday night and I had just finished watching Going The Distance starring Drew Barrymore and realized that throughout the 102 minutes of romance and comedy, I had finished an entire bottle of merlot.

In a hazy fog of tipsiness and hope that there really could be a Justin Long-type somewhere out there for me, I logged onto the internet via my Dell laptop and typed in the search bar the phrase that changed my night/life/soul: “craigslist casual tonight”

After perusing the results for what seemed like hours, I had almost given up hope and was ready to retire to my bedroom, kick Mr. Meows off of my bed, and put myself to sleep with one of the many personal sexual aids that I’ve purchased from various “toy parties” that I’ve attended over the years.

But then…

“successful male looking for a late meeting with female in the Cheyenne/Laramie county area tonight

in town for business until tomorrow

clean and discreet

pics available”

It seemed to me that if I didn’t respond to this particular message, I would lose my nerve so I replied with, “Hello. I am in your area. Interested. Send picture.”

Within five minutes, my inbox lit up with an unread message containing an IMdB link and a phone number.

It took a few seconds before it clicked in my head and I realized that television personality Chuck Woolery was – like me – trolling the internet at a very late hour in hopes of an anonymous sexual encounter.

I called the number and the voice that answered seemed fairly intoxicated but who was I to judge? I mean Queen Drunkie here just polished off 750ml of the good red stuff.

After a few minutes of name exchanging and small talk he said, “So am I comin’ over or what?”

Generally, I’d be offended at a man who speaks to a lady that way, but there was something in that familiar voice that I’d heard before, assisting in so many Love Connections. I gave him my street address and made sure to include my helpful tip that he would make better time if he used the highway exit after the one that Google Maps tells you to use.

Ninety minutes later, my apartment alarm buzzer rang. Considering the fact that I was beginning to doze off and that it was sounded in the very specific silence that only 3:45 in the morning affords, I was rather startled.

Through the peephole I could tell it was him. So handsome. Even at his current age of 70, I defy you to find any woman who loves this country to admit that she wouldn’t spend one night with the host of Lingo.

And on that night, that woman would be me.

As I opened the door I was rather surprised to find Chuck not wearing his usual spiffy suit and tie but rather a pair of khakis and what appeared to be a Def Leppard t-shirt underneath a denim coat.

He accepted my invitation in by stumbling through the door, almost spilling the already-opened beer he was holding. The other five were still in the car, I was informed.

There was no time wasted as we came together in a drunken embrace. I will not be unladylike and give specifics except for these three notes:

1) I don’t care for five o’clock shadow on a man, but in this case I found it to be ruggedly exciting

2) he kept asking me to fondle his testicles, calling them his “two and two”


3) he took me from behind

When it was all over, I couldn’t help but rest my eyes even though I had so many questions for him. After all, the man is a household name.

When the suns rays forced my pounding head to come up from the pillow he was gone.

This story has often been met with disbelief by the few close friends I’ve confided in, but I’ll always have the one keepsake that serves as definitive proof of the factual nature of my tale.

It’s a signed headshot that Chuck left on my kitchen table that reads, “Had a wonderful time. I am behind you, always – Chuck Woolery”
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