Day 9: “I’m not embarrassed to be with a younger man, except when I drop him off at school.” – Angie Dickinson, veteran vixen
I was single for a stretch of about ten years, give or take a couple of two-month relationships here and there. I loved being single and thought I would never ever want to get married again. I would often joke that people would see me in my sixties wearing a mu-mu and trailing a string of boy toys behind me. My only restriction was that I couldn’t date anybody who was closer to my son’s age than he was to mine.
I think Angie and I would have gotten along.
The truth is I didn’t then and don’t now really care about age, his or mine. What I did and do care about is the more important stuff. Can we talk? Do I like the way he treats others? Do I like the way he treats me? Is he fun and exciting and challenging (intellectually) and easy (conversationally)?
Many women I knew had lists. If a guy was to be “the one” he had to meet a laundry list of personality, physical, and career traits. He had to be damn near perfect before they’d consider going on a second date. For me there was a freedom in not looking for Mr. Right. Instead I went out with guys ranging from 11 years younger to 12 years older. I was having fun. So, apparently, were they, because I’m still friends with almost every guy I dated in that decade. For them, I’m sure, there was freedom in not being compared to a checklist.
To be honest, though, I did come up with four requirements. They’re simple and to this day I feel they’re all I need to decide whether or not this guy is the right guy:
- Make me think.
- Make me laugh.
- Don’t make me cry.
- And make me wake the neighbors.
Everything else, in my opinion, is window dressing.