It’s basically unanimous babes – everyone agrees that women should be with younger men. They have the virility, vitality and stamina to be adorable and often wisdom toting playmates for an older woman. Women in their forties have less tolerance for games, are often divorced, and have seen the other side of happily-ever-after. They are at the peak of their earning potential and sexual powers. So I ask, why should we settle for men with flagging flags who are lacking in the passion and exuberance that puts the “test” in testosterone? We shouldn’t. This is a conundrum because older men are still chasing women in their 20’s and 30’s blinded to the patience and maturity that an older woman may bring to the equation and the affectionate wink that she may toss at his faltering sexual abilities and squishy body.
Then there’s my sister, who is married to a 70 year-old that demands sex at least three times a week. How I wonder, as she laments her thrice weekly “chore”, did she get so lucky. I’ve met older men whose sagging bodies and other pertinent parts have left me to consider celibacy as the lesser of two evils. Remarkably, these same men, who are fifty pounds overweight, incapable of supporting their heft, will point out that I can look like a 30 year old super model if I lost 15 pounds. Has the sun been darkened forever and when did insanity take ascendency? I guess the answer to that is in the Middle Ages. Get a clue and pop a mercy Viagra buddy because your body is softer than my pet ferret and your sex is becoming indistinguishable from mine.
I dated a, gulp, 68 year-old recently, really believing that the vast age difference was insurmountable. He told me that he didn’t think he would ever live with someone again, after two failed marriages, and boasted that a 30 year-old had written to him online, even though it was a money scam. Seriously? Am I really competing with some phantasm that exists in your pre-senile mind. Maybe we should all embrace senility. I’d love to live with that kind of selective illusion.
Even though we’re conditioned to believe that men age better than women and maintain an essence of virility, all bets are off if your junk doesn’t work, and my experience is that it rarely does. Please, I’d rather get a gel manicure and have a massage on a Friday night than suffer you ill fated intentions that can only result in well – disappointment. And yet women are fighting over these gadfly gladiators as if they held the key to some mysterious happiness. You’ve passed your sell by date buddy. Listen, I’m as reasonable as the next. If you’re willing to spend time and are an affable fellow who can make me laugh, I’ll hang with you. But if you’re looking over your dislocated rotator cuff for the next young thang in a thong – keep shuffling towards the nearest exit.
As it happens a stunning young man in his early thirties has been calling me for months. Perhaps I will finally return his calls and invite him over. I don’t want to die without experiencing passion again. Is that too much to ask? I was sort of “saving” myself for a relationship but instead, have been exposed to the emotionally maimed, arrogant, self-satisfied egos of men in their late fifties and early sixties who really just aren’t up to the task. They stumble in the pervasive illusion that any woman will be happy to have their “male” attention and often seek to bolster their egos with younger or “desperate”older woman.
One sad 60 year-old, still in love with his 28 year old Korean girlfriend for whom he left his country, family, and bank account, lamented that “women don’t want older men anymore”. Welcome to my nightmare friend. Maybe women have smartened up.
Seriously, in my experience, “dating” older men is a soggy path that leaves you wet but unsatisfied. Get to the gym, infuse some Juvederm and get thee hunting for a younger man. At least they still know how to make a woman feel like a woman. Then there’s love, but that’s another blog. Still don’t know anything about that.