While watching a neighborhood parade last weekend, I was approached by somewhat of an older man who was selling T-shirts. Rather than haggling me about his hustle, we engaged in a great conversation about the community, professional goals and such. I realized quickly that he was a dreamer – not someone who actively seeks and pursues or even someone who just wishes, but someone who thinks he’s doing one thing and really actually doing something else. I noticed it early on in our conversation when he kept rambling off the names of celebrities who he worked for at one time or another, or the fact that he said Tyra Banks wasn’t as tall as believed and that he stood taller than her when she wore six-inch heels (though I am short, I’m not an idiot). Nonetheless, we shared some similarities as he had dabbled in “acting” and hosted a few radio shows, and I thought that maybe we could network somewhat on a professional level. Regardless of the fact that he was selling some social action T-shirt. Clearly, I was wrong.
First of all, I absolutely HATE speaking on the phone. It’s something that, as I’ve gotten older, I really find to nearly be a waste of time unless you’re family, close friends who I want to gossip with, something about a job, someone who I have been seeing for an extended amount of time, or if there is an emergency. Otherwise, you really have no reason to call me. Especially in this day and age. Otherwise, just text me. If we haven’t gone out on a date, then what do we have to talk about? You don’t know me, and I really have better things to do in the meantime.
This fool had his nerve to call me about a week later. After telling him that I was eating dinner (which I had to repeat a minimum of three other times and that he interrupted my chicken from Buffalo Wild Wings), he continued on the phone rambling about shit that, quite frankly, I hardly remember or could care less about. And then it made me think: how old is this motherfucker?
He was one of those New Yorkers who make non-natives hate the city. The type who brag that it’s the greatest city on Earth and the biggest and most extravagant things happen in New York, but has never left the city. He continued on in other areas, also being the type to brag about things that I never did. Okay, if I’ve never taken a boat around Manhattan and I’ve been here for three years – who cares? You’ve never had a stable job. People have different priorities.
Nonetheless, we continued having a two-hour chat after I made multiple attempts to try and get off the phone. However, he was the kind of guy who liked to have a conversation with himself without the other party ever really having to respond. He boasted that he was great with communication, despite the fact that he never acknowledged my will to get off the phone or that I had to make a run before it got too late.
Then, I finally asked him how old he was, if he had kids. He was 51 with a daughter of 19.
Here’s the issue that I have with old men, and by old, I consider MEN beyond the age of 34 or born before 1981. At that point, you’re from a different generation and you have no idea how to date a millennial. Our morals are different, we’re technologically advanced and you’re not, our culture is different, and if you’re an ass, I can’t change your ass-habits at that point. You’re too old. Not to mention, you’re clearly in denial if you’re trying to date/get romantically involved with someone half your age or near the age of your own daughter. Let’s really think about that.
Don’t get me wrong, I actually find most older men to be very attractive. Men enter their prime around 40. They gain distinguished lines, get settled in their looks, find their ideal hairstyles with a bit of salt-and-pepper. However, I do not consider these men as “old,” but more so as “illustrious and esteemed.”
But not everyone is a Boris Kodjoe, Idris Elba, George Clooney, Morris Chestnut, or Brad Pitt. Sometimes, there are bums who are clearly in denial. Many times, they’re trying to over-compensate for something and recover their youth with a pretty young girl on their arm. At least in their minds. However, these men fail to realize that they’re offering nothing to us younger or more attractive or ambitious women, especially if they have no money. Why go for a broke old man when I can have a cute young something with a lively penis and without gray hairs running a muck on his balls? It makes absolutely no sense. I once had “an old guy” tell me that he would give me everything if I were to be with him. But how? When I have more than you do and you’re twice my age??? Even my mother doesn’t deal with these fogeys.
After finally inching to the end of the conversation, the man tells me that it would make him happy if I called him the next time. He reminded me of other pre-1981ers I’ve dated/talked to/dedicated a moment of my time. Many of which are so unsure of themselves that they refuse to get to know you, and, instead, tell you who you are. I believe that it’s just something with their lack of confidence that they feel they must date a younger woman to try and tell her who to become. Maybe because he didn’t become what he should have. Or maybe he just wants a doll to mold. Or maybe, just maybe, his dick doesn’t work anymore and he’s thinking that some young girl is his last hope for living. Even if she is the age of his daughter.