I Be Jet Blue You be Pteradactyl

Dear Mr. 40 going on 15,

Ugh. When I think about how I went out with you a few times and then let you sleep in my bed (even if I did my very best to keep it PG), I feel kind of ill. Kind of...repulsed.

I have actually never had this happen before. Usually I am repulsed right when I meet you and thus we never date. I've never had such a quick and obvious turn in my feelings. Shall we review what happened?

1) I met you at my friend's birthday party. Despite it being a crazy night, you seemed mellow and secure, and after my last relationship I am BIG on being secure. We danced, talked a lot about big philosophical things (I'm such a sucker for that, even in a loud club after one too many tequila n' rockstar drinks), and you avoided telling me how old you are (I am 28).

2) We chatted on the internets for several weeks. You didn't do a very good job with spelling or grammar, but it seemed more because you were kind of ADD and less that you were dumb. In hindsight, I think that is still true. Or you'e just fucking lazy. Either way, we had a lot to talk about.

3) You came out to have a beer with me in Petaluma and we ended up meeting up with some of my friends. We talked pretty much non-stop all night, New Yorker Magazine style. That's how I like it. Little politics. Little art. Little life story. You did well with my friends. We made out on the dance floor of this big party and it felt nice. A little piece of me at the time wanted a little more restraint from you in terms of vigor of the kissing. Aren't there any real gentlemen left who can save that until just a little later?

4) You called me two days later to say hi. Well played.

5) We met up on my way back in from the airport in San Francisco. We walked and talked for a few hours, had a beer, and you told me you were 40. Admittedly this is not the oldest I have dated, and you seemed young at heart in a mature way, so I shrugged it off and kissed you good night. In the following days, however, I started to do the math on how young I might be when you lose the ability to have sex with me or when you die...but I digress.

6) You come to Promageddon as my date. And this is where you failed, you see. You, like, really took a nose dive for me that evening.

First, you showed up late and called me saying you were trying to find parking and had two friends with you. When you didn't show up in the house for another 45 minutes I started to wonder if you had fallen in a ditch and you replied that y'all were sitting in your truck and you'd be in soon. What the fuck? What were you doing?

You came into the house in pants that were...well...no offense to my fellow bloggers who this will offend, but just a little too Burning Man for me. Some kind of weird patchwork that involved fur and those ugly platform Doc Marten-y type shoes. Ew. You brought me flowers, which was nice, but not enough. You also brought me unattractive and weird single men for my friends. Ew.

Then you slid directly into some kind of totally obnoxious 15 year-old personality. First, my friends tried to talk to you and you gave them completely evasive bullshit answers to everything, which you actually did to me when we first met years ago. When asked what you do, you told one of them that you "sit in (your) truck and drink a beer in the afternoon. Sometimes it is warm, sometimes it is cold." If that is bullshit, shame on you for bullshitting my friend. If that is true, shame on you for being lazy. Of course, I kind of already knew you were lazy at work based on other conversations, but I chose to ignore it.

Now this is where I admit that we took some MDMA. There, admitted. But guess what? I can take MDMA and not grope the hell out of you in front of friends of yours I don't know, to the point where everyone is uncomfortable. Also, I can pick up on cues about when someone does not want to make out with me. Despite being a PSYCHOLOGIST, you seem kind of blind to those cues.

Then you tried to force my very dear friend into bed with your very ugly and weird friend. When I tried to make them separate beds, you tried pretty hard to stop me. That is a HUGE offense. Have you ever dealt with rape victims? I have. And my friend deserves a choice of where she wants to sleep. The more I think about those moments, the more I dislike you. My house is not a young woman buffet.

Lastly, when we woke up in the morning after I avoided touching you all evening, I was very hungover and thew up. Your response? Grope grope grope. Kiss kiss kiss. Bizarre and pathetic pillow talk. Ew. I shoed you right off of me. It was easy because you looked really old in the morning light.

So, there is a good reason that you are single at 40. And the only reason to date an older man is maturity and you don't got it.

Peace out,

T-Rex