[dropcap]T[/dropcap]he message reads not half bad. It’s polite. It takes an interest in me. It indicates I’m lovely. Facts Are Facts. So I check out his profile. Flash-aaaaaahhhhhaa-Savior of the Universe. And I can hardly believe my eyes. Have I found me a Freddie Mercury look-a-like? Or Tom Selleck. Or perhaps even John Oates. But no. It appears to be just regular guy. Though he looks like a mix of those three, moustaches and all.
I, of course, am mistaken because this dude does not turn out to be just any regular guy. He is a special species, one of a noticeable nature, a likened lot, a particular pedigree. This fellow is of the variety of gentleman I kindly refer to as stupid motherfucking pain in my ass idiot childish moronic “Old dude unawares”.
The Old Dude Unawares or ODU, comes in many different forms. If he looks like my new boyfriend he’ll be dressed to the nines in his khaki pleated shorts but still claiming the age of 33 on his dating profile. In the words of a movie (that he’d be told old to get the reference for) “As if!” And to be honest, even if it wasn’t for the pleated attire, I would’ve guessed his age at somewhere that side of 40…maybe even glancing down the barrel of 50. So, I ask you, What’s the deal with old guys?
Ironically, I’m into older guys. What I’m not into??? Old dudes fucking embarrassing themselves pretending to be young dudes. You know what’s sexy? Self-awareness. And this is something all ODUs lack. The self-awareness to know better.
This just in.
You’re not young at heart. You sir, are a fucking idiot.
Now not all ODUs will show their stripes like mine did, clad in khaki so pleated even Grandpa would’ve cringed. Some look completely normal for their age, excepting of course the fact that they think they stand a shot in hell with me. Others will be the typical Hollywood man-child or Manhattan detached-tycoon or any of the other stereotypical options I see in movies and on TV but what will be exactly the same about all of them, is a total lack of ability to think logically when it comes to personal matters and a total disregard for that precious thing I already mentioned self-awareness.
And the thing of the thing is…I can’t really figure the ODU out. I don’t know why he pursues me. Because Pleaty over there wasn’t the first and he won’t be the last. In fact, he is only one of many in a long line of too-close-to-my-dad’s-age-why-are-you-so-gross-and-creepy old dudes. And I reiterate, I truly don’t get it.
Is it a procreation thing? Because uh..well…fuck…don’t be looking for babies in these uterine walls, soldier. Is it an arm candy thing? Okay this one I tiny bit get but then…um…
- what’s in it for me?
Because here’s a secondary problem of the ODU. They’re just average guys. Possibly below average but I’m trying to be nice. Now I would get the whole thinking-it-reasonable-logical-actually-possible-to-snag-a-foxy-woman-20-years-your-junior if you were say….RICH…or…FUCKING GORGEOUS…or…RIDICULOUSLY SMART…or even HILARIOUSLY HILARIOUS. But what about the regular Joes? I mean what-the-fuck-are-they-thinking???
- Why me?
It’s not like I’m Pamela Anderson or Angelina Jolie or whoever the fuck else you boys are idealizing these days. Because if you’re going to go young…wouldn’t you also keep up the arm-candy-trophy-wife approach?
And to be honest it makes me wonder. What’s really wrong with our society? That men (and women, let’s be fair) feel the need to lie about their age. Or pretend it doesn’t exist. Apparently as time passes many of us by, instead of being proud of the lives we have lead, we end up cowering to a societal pressure. A pressure, that quite honestly I don’t feel really exists except in the mind of weak people who lie about their age…but then again…ask me when I’m 40 and my answer might change…see…I’m open to being fallible…but I digress. And the reason for lying is generally the same…to keep more dating options open. Men want to be able to contact younger girls who have selected not to be contacted by men 20 years their senior and women want to not limit themselves to dating men their father’s age once they’ve passed 30. Or something like that.
Either way, everybody is holding on, tooth and nail, to a youth that isn’t their’s to grasp.
And then of course, the hilarity of Pleaty gets a little less funny and a little more sad as I think about a society that relishes in the unrealistic (not to be confused with art/fantasy/etc.) and unaware world that creates these situations.
Sure…age is just a number. Then again words are just letters…but when you string them together they fucking mean something.
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