Secondhand Sunday

Sundays are my Secondhand day. I'm basically too lazy to think of anything new to say so I re-post a "vintage" entry.

If you aren't in the mood for repeats, please feel free to change the channel.

"1 + 1 = 0"

Original Post Date, March 24, 2009


Let's talk about this whole cougar phenomenon. I don't know. Is it really a phenomenon? It looks like women have finally caught up to men in the "I look like an idiot dating someone 15 years younger than me" category. I suppose it was inevitable.

We make our own money, we own our own homes, we kill our own spiders. It was just a matter of time before we bought our own boyfriends.

Clarification, please. Do you have to be rich to be a cougah (it's so much more fun to say it that way, isn't it?) or do you just need to be old and horny for young boys?

I'm neither. So I guess I'm not a cougah. There have been two instances where I've dated (and I use the term "dated" very loosely) younger guys. The first one was 21 years old to my 29. He was a bartender at Shooter's Restaurant and he was cute as cute could be. He was a bodybuilder and had lots of tattoos. I'm 5'9, he was maybe 5'5. But did I mention how cute he was? He wasn't very bright, either, and one of my elitist friends said, "What could you possibly see in him? Don't you need intellectual stimulation?" I just laughed and told her that was what I had her for.

The second young'un was 21 years old when I was 34. I met him at a going away party that my friend's co-workers threw for her when she got a new job. He was pretty cute and he had a motorcycle. Well, I had never been on a motorcycle so we wandered outside the bar, took a ride on the bike and then sat down to talk.

Keep in mind: I'm 34, he's 21.

Me: "That was a fun ride. How fast were we going?"

Him: "I don't know, dude. Somewhere around 90 miles an hour."

Me: "Oh my."

chat....chat....chat....

Him: "You have a kick ass body, man!"

Me: "Why, thank you."

Him: "You rock!", pointing both fingers at me. Pow! Pow!

Me: "Thank you, again."

WHY I gave him my phone number is beyond me but I think we met for a drink once and he did call a few times. He was a truck driver and his cargo was usually clothing for the Gap or The Limited. He was sweet enough to offer to steal some clothing for me if I gave him my size but I was torn between telling him my size and reporting him to the authorities.

Needless to say, that relationship didn't work out.

I just can't imagine dating someone that much younger now and I don't understand why women do it. I suppose it's the ego boost. We do it because we can. We don't look like our mothers looked when they were our age. I'm trying to picture what I would look like in one of my mother's housecoats and it's not pretty, although the front snaps would make for easy access.

I can't imagine it's the sex, either. Maybe we just think we look younger standing next to some hot young thing. It's probably what Donald Trump and Bruce Willis think.

I thought I might look younger standing next to someone older so I went out with a 50 year old a few weeks ago. He was very nice, very articulate and very polite. Throughout the course of the night, he alluded to how great it would be to have someone to go to church and/or Bible study with.

Now if you've read at least three of my posts, you've probably figured out that I'm not the girl for him and I told him so. He brushed it off and asked me if I would like to out again. Sure, I say, let's do this again as he kissed me on the cheek.

I almost wanted to take his hands and put them on my boobs. Lively banter, gentlemanly behavior...what kind of dating twilight zone was I in?

A few days later, I got an email from him asking me if I wanted to be friends, what kind of friend I wanted to be, etc. He was completely analyzing something that didn't even exist yet. Um...next. But we saw that coming.

Now don't get me wrong. I haven't lost sight of the fact that I am the common denominator in all of these encounters.

Maybe I'm too picky.

Maybe I'm too set in my ways.

Maybe I have unrealistically high standards.

Maybe it is me.

Ummm....maybe not.