Careful what you ask for.
Some years ago, being involved in an on-again, off-again affair with a gentleman about whom I was (and still am) pretty nuts, a friend suggested that I lower my standards. The BF at the time was (and still is) a lifelong athlete, body builder and is hugely attractive to me.
“Be willing to go out with someone with a pooch,” she suggested, not unkindly. Her husband, also a dear friend, has one. In this case, she wasn’t referring to a dog, but the kind of pooch that my father developed when he quit smoking and instead turned to candies to control his habit.
“You need to be a lot more willing to spend time with men who aren’t in really good shape,”she pushed.
I told her that I’d rather French kiss a bulldog on my couch than go out with someone who has a beer belly, stick arms and isn’t sexually attractive to me. As a dedicated athlete, bodybuilder and adventure traveler, out-of-shape men, with all due respect, don’t turn me on. One of the inevitable challenges is that men my age (65) who are in my kind of shape tend to chase skirts a third their age. That’s because they can still run fast, and besides, when they’re in that kind of shape, that keeps things below the belt right lively.
GOOD FOR THEM.
I hardly blame them. If it works, and those women find them attractive, why in heaven’s name not? I’ve dated men 15–20 years younger most of my adult life. What does it for me is someone who is at least as dedicated as I am to fitness and a healthy lifestyle. Athletes understand this. Most of us prefer the company-especially intimate company-of those who take care of themselves and work hard at fitness. Online dating, however, was a joke, for once I passed the ripe old age of sixty nobody believed my photos any more. Given my own experience of men who post photos of themselves some twenty years prior, I don’t blame people. You might get a photo like below, and what shows up is…um…let’s just say that time isn’t kind to many of us.
Fast forward to today. The athletic gentleman in question re-entered my life and is now living with me. Looks to be long-term.
He has a bulldog.
You can see what’s coming.
Yes, she sleeps on the couch. Yes, I let her kiss me. I adore Sophie, slobbery kisses and all.
Yes, I wash my face before I kiss him. It’s only fair.
My guy does indeed look like the photo above. That keeps things right lively around here.
What makes me laugh, and always did, was how many Match.com men in their sixties told me that I’d never find anyone nearly twenty years younger who would tolerate my getting old. I might note that most of these fine gentlemen sported pooches- big ones- and hadn’t seen their own gear sticks in decades.
Speak for yourselves, gentlemen.
These days I get to kiss the bulldog AND the handsome younger guy.
Makes sense to ask for what you want.