Sometimes, I have to write. That’s my disclaimer, just in case my agent happens to pop by to check in on how one of her favorite deadline-deliquent writers happens to be doing in the dating world. Yes, I should be working on edits, and I have been (along with copyediting for hire, since the money’s more immediate), but a girl needs a break every once in awhile.
Anyway, all that said, I was on a date the other night (20.2, which I’ll get to another day), and there was Date 13, sitting at the next table! No doubt, the world is way too small, but the situation was somewhat incriminating. Date 20 could tell I was uncomfortable, so I felt led to gloss over why, specifically, having this particular young stud hang out with his man-posse (probably his gym friends) over yonder made me ill at ease.
So here we go, then, with an examination of the half-truths offered in explanation of the situation:
1. I went out with him once.
“Went out with” is a rather generous way to put it. Actually, what happened was that a girlfriend and I went out for drinks one night at a restaurant bar reputed for its (wealthy) over-40 clientele. While there, none of the silver-haired fellows with whom I’d probably be a better match (since their kids are older, like mine) even glanced in our direction. Two young guys walked into the bar, however, and sat at the table right next to ours.
My girlfriend immediately called the one with the gargantuan set of muscles. Fine by me, I nodded in agreement, since the other guy was hot, too, and a little quirkier, which tends to be my type.
Maybe up close they realized we were a lot older than them or maybe they were just shy, but after ten minutes of their sitting right next to us (there were lots of empty tables–they didn’t have to choose that one) and not saying anything, I made an excuse to strike up conversation. Unfortunately, the ploy I used (inquiring about muscle-guy’s physique, saying my teenage son wants to bulk up but I don’t know what he should be eating) kind of backfired on me, since he wound up being a personal trainer who then wanted my business. No matter, though, because it did the job–my excuse of a question got the four of us talking.
I think I’ve mentioned this girlfriend of mine before. The preacher’s daughter? you might be wondering. Um-hmm. Yeah, that’s her. Anyway, she invited the guys back to her house with us for drinks! They seemed like nice enough guys, but I was still shocked. Because, how did we know they weren’t going to attack, kill, or rob us? We’d never met them before!!! I guess my girlfriend and I were both hammered enough to figure there was safety in numbers, though, because we wound up leaving my car parked near the restaurant, taking off in the quirky guy’s Mercedes for my girlfriend’s hillside custom luxury home.
Once there, we drank, played pool, spilled wine, and started to watch a movie. Muscle-guy kept pulling my girlfriend into the other room to put the moves on her in private, which I guess she rebuffed. In the mean time, I was having a great time playing footsie with the quirky dude (who turned out to be one of the muscle-guy’s personal training clients, as it happened).
His moves thwarted, muscle-guy declared he had to get home, demanding he and the quirky guy immediately leave. “Want to come with us?” the quirky guy asked me.
“Will you be okay if I go?” I asked my girlfriend.
“Please!” she said. “We’re both grown women. Go have some fun.”
So I did.
After we dropped off the petulant muscle-bound guy, Date 13 drove me back to his place. Only 34 years old, he had a head full of gorgeous dark hair, beautiful creamy skin, and that personal trainer he employed? Dude knew his stuff, because Date 13’s bod was rockin’!
I can’t remember if we had sex three or four times, but I do recall how fun it was. Definitely dominant, he kept pinning my hands back, plunging himself into me like he wanted to hurt me. And when he went down on me? Dude was relentless, repeatedly making me cry out with how aggressively he sucked my clit.
Okay–I know I said I wasn’t going to get too graphic here, so I apologize. Basically, I just want to relate the fact that the sex was hot, and I definitely would have been down for more. Date 13 climaxed repeatedly, so I thought he might have shared that opinion, but maybe he had a heart-to-heart with his cat afterward (she was making racket all night, the way my also-Siamese cat does when she wants someone to get lost) and she gave me the thumbs down, since although he accepted my friend request on facebook, he never ended up calling.
2. I’m not sure, but I think he might be on steroids or something.
Here’s where the story gets interesting, in my opinion: the next morning, Date 13 took me out to Starbucks on the way to pick up my car. While in Starbucks, we ran into one of his gym buddies, a majorly hot 50-ish guy of the ilk I wished I were dating (seriously thinking about joining their gym in the future!). The two of them made friendly, casual conversation. I was a little embarrassed, since being with Date 13 so early in the morning was somewhat walk-of-shameish (despite my being dressed in workout clothes, since I’d brought them to my girlfriend’s house and then brought them to Date 13’s when we left together), but whatever. The interaction with this acquaintance made Date 13 seem like a normal, regular, mild-mannered guy.
As we were leaving the Starbucks parking lot, however, a minivan driven by a family approached us going the wrong way according to the shopping center’s signage. The man at the wheel of the Honda Odyssey shrugged an apology, waving for us to pass, clearly indicating he realized he was in the wrong and sorry for any inconvenience. Date 13 rolled down the window of his Mercedes.
“Wrong way, asshole!” he yelled, then sped past the minivan on our way out of the parking lot.
Needless to say, sitting in the front passenger seat, I felt like I wanted to disappear. People make mistakes in parking lots, you know? It’s not that big a deal. The fact that Date 13 had to berate this guy for making a wrong turn seemed like a huge red flag to me. Shocked and befuddled over what had happened that morning, I later asked Date 5 what he thought of Date 13’s parking-lot behavior.
“Maybe he just really needed his coffee,” he said, which made me laugh so hard I think I snorted.
Whatever the case, it was obvious Date 13 probably has some anger issues. Maybe he knows it, and he’s embarrassed over what happened, or maybe he’s just not that into me, so even though he asked me for my number as he was dropping me off, he never had any intention of calling. Hard to say. Whatever the case, I didn’t like the idea of sitting there having a glass of wine, trying to get to know Date 20 while Date 13 lurked in the background with his weight-lifting cronies, so Date 20 and I wound up going inside the restaurant, abandoning the patio to its studmuffin mafia.