Dear Dan: I’m 64 years young, a musician, chubby, full head of hair, no Viagra needed, no alcohol, I don’t mind if you drink, smoker, yes I am. I am also faithful, loyal and single for five years. No health issues, nada, zero, zilch. Not gay, not prejudiced against gays, pro-woman, Democrat, MASCULINE. Except I only like the younger women and women without tattoos. And I like them FEMININE. Ladies my age are a shopping bag of issues with children and ex-hubbies. NO THANK YOU. So what’s my problem? Young women see me as an old gizzard. I am not ugly, and I look younger than 64. But I see what younger women go for. These girls are missing out on me because they would rather be abused, cheated on and kicked around by some young prince. Be my guest, dear! Another problem is that I don’t go to bars or really go out at all, so how the hell am I going to meet a girl? But I long for a girl I can cherish. I’m even willing to marry the right girl if she wishes, no problema. Who cares about age? I sure don’t, but they sure do. Of course, I will die first; she can keep the car and everything else for that matter. I can’t take it with me. So I have about 24 more years of life and I don’t want to wait. Dreaming is free, of course, but I want it right here, right now. Am I asking for too much?
— Oblivious Ladies Disregard Elder Romeo
Dear OLDER: Who cares about age? You, OLDER, you care about age.
You rule out dating women your own age and then toss out two and possibly three stupid rationalizations for not staying in your actuarial lane: Women your age have children, ex-husbands and tattoos(?). All bullshit. Women your own age might be likelier to have children and ex-husbands, but there are plenty of childless women out there in their 50s and 60s. OLDER, younger women are likelier to have tattoos, and everyone (yourself included) has exes.
And excuse me, but women your own age are a shopping bag of issues? You’re a shopping mall’s worth of issues yourself, OLDER. Issue number one: You can’t be honest, even in an anonymous forum, about why you wanna date younger women — they make your grizzled old dick hard — so you take a dump on all older women. Issue number two: male entitlement syndrome. (The universe doesn’t owe you a younger woman, OLDER; the universe doesn’t actually owe you shit.) Issues three, four and five: an inability to spot your own hypocrisy (I mean, come on), a clear preference for nursing a fantasy (the young woman of your nicotine-stained dreams) over accepting reality (there’s no settling down without settling for), and the probability that you’ve watched way too many movies with actresses in their 20s playing the romantic interests of actors in their 60s and 70s.
If I may be blunt(er): You’re an older man, you’re a smoker, you’re out of shape, you don’t leave the house much, and, most fatally of all, you harbor resentment for the objects of your desire (“Be my guest, dear!”), something objects of desire always pick up on and are almost always repulsed by. (Let’s all light a little candle for the ones who aren’t.) So unless you’re a billionaire or an A-list actor, OLDER, the young woman of your dreams is unlikely to break into your apartment. (There’s not a lot of overlap between the young gerontophile community and the burglar community.) Not even the prospect of inheriting a used car 24 years from now is going to land you a young woman.
My advice, OLDER: Keep dreaming. And if you want to be with a young woman once in a while, consider renting. But please don’t misconstrue anything I’ve written here as encouragement to date women your own age: They deserve better.
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