I totally figured out how I’m going to meet younger men.
First, let’s backtrack a little. Last Saturday night, Stef took me to the Mavs game where we enjoyed the seats in the suite. It’s not as cold in the AAC during Mavs games as it is during Stars games. And you get more popcorn for your money there than you do at the movies, but movie popcorn is better. Anyway, Stef asked me if I was seriously going to try to seduce an 18-year-old, and I said no, he has to be at least 21 because I can’t go to jail for buying my boyfriend alcohol. Then she said, “Boyfriend? So do you just want to have sex with a younger man or do you want to date one?” And I said I’d like to date one. Then after the game, which the Mavs won, we went to The Dubliner and met a weird guy who said he was a Mason, but we think he was actually married, and I pissed off Noel because I called him a couple times when I was out having a good time but then when he called me the next day, I didn’t answer the phone and then I have been talking to other men in front of him and not chatting him up all night at The Dubliner and he called me a tease so I yelled at him and told him he was the one shacked up with some woman and was unavailable so he was the tease, not me, and then I kissed this Australian guy who lives in Singapore.
That’s right, I totally kissed a boy last weekend. I don’t know how old he is, but he has a dimple like Kirk Douglas so who cares?
Which brings me to the point. I want to date a younger man who’s at least 21 and then the other night when I got home from Central Market because I wanted good soup for dinner, my neighbor Alicia was standing in our courtyard talking to this guy about the mystery cat that’s been hanging around for the last two weeks and the guy is Dude Who Smokes On The Balcony Across The Courtyard who I’ve said hello to a few times.
Dude’s name is Lucas and he’s a double-major at SMU. Firm…handshake.
I offered to edit the two 20-page papers he’s working on.
No one knows who the cat belongs to.
