Man #6, Baby, Baby

20 03 2011

I had to think long and hard about the nickname I wanted to give Man #6. I did a little research at Urban Dictionary under the various terms referring to cougars, considered calling him Cougar Bait for a moment, and, ultimately, decided I did not like referring to him as cougar anything.  I figured since he was two years within the limit that would make me a cradle robber according to the “How young is too young equation”  (see the equation above) I was in the clear when it comes to cougardom.

Besides, it’s not like my second Craigslist date Friday night was a strapping, 21-year-old college student.  He was 30 with a hot, little body, but his baby face made him look as though he had just graduated from high school.  What made it worse was that when I had walked into Quinn’s on Capitol Hill I had seated myself at the bar, and then when Man #6 arrived, he sat down with a barstool in between us.  I’m sure this made it appear to everyone at the bar that I was a cougar stalking some tasty, young meat. 

Vacant barstool or not, I suppose things probably would have appeared that way to the casual onlooker regardless.

Oh well.  One of my friends scoffed at my reluctance to be a cougar.  She said I’ve “earned” it.

Baby, Baby and I had a great time and a good conversation.

We talked about the age thing, in fact.  I have never felt that I could be a cougar, because I started having children young, at 20, which means that my eldest son is 22 years old.  This means that the above equation of half your age plus 7 doesn’t really work for me.  The resulting sum for that equation of 28 would place the minimum age of my date closer to my son’s age than to my own, and that makes me uncomfortable.  I simply feel it is disrespectful to my son.  Some people might think I’m foolish for thinking that way, but that’s the way I see it.

Since I’m twenty years older than my son and eighteen years younger than my mother, I prefer to stick to an age range of 32 to 51, ages halfway to the ages of those closest to me.  There are plenty of people who find love with individuals who are the same age as their children, (Donald Trump, for example) but it’s never been my thing.

Conversely, it is difficult for me to date anyone who is closer to my mother’s age than to my own.  This has less to do with age and more to do with the fact that, in terms of my joie de vivre, I’m a fairly young 42.  I’ve met too many 45-year-old men who couldn’t keep up with me. Let alone someone in his mid-50s.  It could happen, I suppose, but it would have to be someone who didn’t need a cabinet full of medicines and a special diet to keep going.

But about the date…

In a telephone conversation before the date, Baby, Baby had uttered the expression “uff da,” which instantly made my ears perk up.

“Did you just say uff da,” I asked.

It’s not something you hear very often.

It turned out that we are both half Norwegian, and this launched us into an entire discussion on ancestry, the wonders of lefse right off the griddle, krumkake at Christmastime, cardamom, and the dangers of lutefisk.  Not many people can speak my food.

Like me, Baby, Baby had gotten married and started having children at a young age.  He was divorced by age twenty-five, however, and I have to say, hands down, he possesses the most horrific yet hilarious divorce story I have ever heard. He arrived home one day and opened the bedroom door to find his wife tied to the headboard with a ball gag in her mouth and one of his friends standing there with a tennis racket.  I had nothing in my arsenal of messed up stories that could top that one.

We also talked a lot about dating in general, how there’s too much pressure to get serious right away and how this shows up on each side of the equation in various ways.  Baby, Baby recounted a story about a woman in her early twenties who, three weeks into a relationship, started talking about how much he should spend on her engagement ring.  She’d thrown a mug at him when he tried to explain that he didn’t yet feel that way about her, and he said this was the reason he tried to stay away from women under 25.

“It’s like they have a screw lose.”

This is just one of the many reasons younger men are attracted to cougars.  A woman over 40 has her shit together, has her own life, and can go buy her own diamonds if she wants.  I’ll save my rant on the wedding industrial complex for another time.

To close, I will just say that it was my second very enjoyable, no pressure Craigslist date in three days, and to top it off, although there is nothing romantic there, Baby, Baby and I just might get together to make lefse.





2 responses

21 03 2011

Uffdah mii!

29 06 2012
Ok, I’ll Try OkCupid « My Dating Prescription

[…] had put into creating and editing my online dating profiles.  Furthermore, I have had a number of dates from Craigslist that have gone quite nicely, so, consequently, I just didn’t see the point in paying $107 […]

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