Was it really THAT long ago? I’m kind of shocked by that number. I can remember it like it was yesterday. 19, attracted to the man who would become my husband. ( years worth of hell, but that’s a whole other story).
I’ve been divorced for 8 years.. 8 years of finding myself, allowing myself to grow into I feel is the real me. It will be 9 years this September. I feel it’s time to start dating and getting off the websites and meeting some of these losers errr guys… in person.
Sooo… the first one I chose. He’s older than I am. A teacher at my Alma Mater. He was a very young teacher when I was there. Kind of cool. Kind of cute. I remembered him, he didn’t remember me though.
We chatted for a couple of days. Laughing, nothing sexual AT all. Flirting, just having fun. I decide OK, this is the first date material. Not looking for a relationship with him, just have some fun, date a little.
After a slight snafu, we manage to set a time and place to meet. Now I’m nervous. 28 years is a LONG time to have space between dating experiences. Toooo long. My 19 year old self is nothing like my 48 ish year old self. What do I wear? Makeup? Recent weight loss has left my closet barren for “date” material clothing. A run to the store gets me a couple of options and I settle on one.
I don’t sleep the night before. Nerves have kicked in. Am I dating material? Is this a good idea? Am I really ready for this? I decide to push through and go forward. Yes, this is doable. I can do this. I am woman, hear me roar…. or at least get a little loud, not sure I can roar anymore.
Time of the date comes and I’m driving to meet him. As I drive by a DD I see a man, an OLD man, walking to the building… my gut screams… THAT’S him….. RUN… Don’t do this. He’s an old dude.. you can do better than this for a first date! NAH my head says.. he’s safe.. he can be a first date. He’s respectable. 30 plus years at the high school.. he’s a good “practice” date.
I drive by the place we are going to meet. I don’t want to be waiting for him when he gets there. THAT makes me seem eager.. and eager I am not. I am actually wanting to RUN. You know that voice in your gut that tells you things? Yeah, I need to start listening to her. I should have run and just gone ghost on him. But noo….. I need a first date.. let’s trudge through this.
I turn around and get to the parking lot. As I pull up, he is staring at his phone. It’s almost at his nose. He’s blind as a bat. OK. He’s old. We have established that my head says. TOO old my gut says.. RUN. No… I stay.. then he gets out of his car. FIRST date: Let’s impress her. I’ll wear my BEST sweat suit. Navy blue. Matching sweat shirt (complete with little tears in the collar) WHITE socks.. and let’s dress it up a bit, dress shoes (wing tips no less)
What the FUCK am I doing? RUN my gut says… stay my head says.. he’s harmless. GO, have a coffee, talk, get out, meet someone, yadda yadda. So I stay.
2 hours later, he’s had multiple glasses of wine. Each time he gets up he chats with people at the bar, leaving me alone for 5 to 10 mins at a whack. He walks like a grandfather, hunched and very slowly. He’s answered his cell phone 3 times. Texted with someone twice. Each time the phone is at the tip of his nose. I have had to move my chair away from him several times. Literally moved his hand of my thigh, breast, arm, shoulder, out of my hair too many times to even count. I have even had to turn away from him several times because he has tried to jam his leg between my thighs.
The term Lecherous old man comes to mind.
But I deal, experience I tell myself. First date I tell myself. My gut says SHUT UP to my head… RUN…
SO, I excuse myself, and get to the bathroom. “SAVE ME” I text to my bestie. GET ME OUT OF HERE. CALL ME in 10 mins… PLEASE.
I leave the bathroom, and say it’s getting late, I need to go.
Come back to my house he says. I want to feel your mouth around my cock.
UM no. I am going home.
PLEASE, I have been staring at your lips all night. I want to feel my cum shoot down your throat…
ME: Chokes… “Um NO. I am going home… ALONE”
Little old men can move fast it seems. He follows me out to my car, and a faulty entry button on my hand held switch thingy opens ALL my doors (who knew that wasn’t supposed to be how it worked? It’s been FIXED since btw)
He’s in my car before I am… ” I just want to kiss you” He grabs my jacket, leans in for a kiss as I push away… and my cell rings.
SAVED. I must go… it’s an emergency at home.
PLEASE, just lick the head of my cock. or give me a hand job he says as he grabs my hand and shoves it down his sweat pants… were they a fashion statement or just easy access for this? Planned I think now.
GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY CAR YOU NASTY OLD MAN.
And he does. But not before he gets “SOMETHING” white and crusty on my jacket. And an eager “call me later” as he gets out of my car.
Dry cleaning, well worth that money that day, let me tell you.
I have now purchased a can of pepper spray… had my remote fixed so one press will ONLY open my drivers side door… Creepy Charlie has been blocked from every contacting me.
I got the first “date” out of the way…. Now, to go on a second first date with someone…
A lot has changed in this world since I was 19…..
ICK… white crusty stuff…