Meg,

Here's my thought on the men out there who expect women like me to put out - I feel as if they think I'm desperate. Like I'd take anything because I'm dying of thirst out here in the barren, lonely, fully ensconced in middle age desert. Whatever! I'd rather be alone.

Exactly. That’s what I think too. Especially with the youngun’s. The guys in their twenties pretty much come right out and say stuff like, “I bet your friends would be impressed that you’re out with such a young man.” Barf.

I wouldn’t tell my friends that I’ve gone out with a guy in his twenties. They seriously think that an older woman should be more than happy to be with a younger man. Barf again.

If I were to be with a man in his twenties, I can assure you, it would be me doing the favor. I preferred older men when I was in my twenties, I see no reason to change that thought now. A self confidant MAN sitting across the table from you is ever so much more appealing than some nit wit kid in a short sleeve shirt with some Egyptian markings around his biceps. There’s something mighty sexy about a full grown man in a nice suit and there isn’t a damned thing that a twenty something can do to beat that.

That ladies email reminded me of something that I had forgotten to mention when I was talking about dating. That’s the safety issue. The park dude that I spoke of earlier was out in the town square and he was all proud of IT. I can’t imagine what he would have done if I let his ass in my house. He’d still be here, chasing me around the table. You have to be really, really careful about these things nowadays.

You can have a lot of fun meeting people but if you aren’t very careful, you can find yourself in a pickle. One guy gave me a ride home, that’s all it was supposed to be. But he past my driveway and kept going to his apartment complex. When I balked, he just kept saying that he wanted me to meet his wife. I had such a bad feeling about that one that I just got out of the car and walked home. I would have gotten out of the car if I were a thousand miles from home. There’s something freaky about a man who wants you to come and meet his wife. Even if his wife really was in that apartment, I didn’t want to walk into it with her husband.

But I don’t think there was a wife. I think that guy was trying to lull me into a false sense of security to get me into his apartment. That thought still freaks me out. I honestly think he was jack the raper or someone like that.

You just have to use your common sense...most of the people out there are OK and harmless enough. But just a icky, pushy man is annoying enough. That’s why it’s nice to spend some time in a public place for a while. Maybe all of the serial killers seemed like “such quiet men”, but a pushy man will get pushy early on if you give him the least little bit of room. The park guy didn’t assault me in the restaurant, he waited until we got to the park in the middle of town square, literally. If he can do that outside, I don’t want to know what he’s capable of inside.

I like to confine myself to men who’s family came from the northern hemisphere because they were really cold and spent so much time inside that they know how to do it. But even that doesn’t always prove anything...the guy who peed at my door was certainly of European descent.

Oh well. There’s only a couple of alternatives and I don’t like either of them so I’ll keep plugging away at this heterosexual thing. But I promise to run at the first sign of an unwelcome penis, whether it’s just THERE...or peeing at my car door with me looking out the window aghast.