The Village People. There are all types of men out there.
A while back I wrote a Bucket List of Men to Do. On it, I included an Too Old For Me Rich Guy saying, “At this point in life this is my only route if I want to be photographed as the pretty young thing on someone’s arm.
Dick Van Dyke and his bride. A 46 year age difference.
This past weekend, I thought about checking that one off my list.
I had been invited to a graduation party of a former student. The student’s family is wealthy. Not surprisingly, it appeared that their friends are similarly well off. As per usual I attended alone. As per usual, it appeared as though I was the only woman attending alone, except, of course, for the widowed grandmothers. As per usual, I was the only woman of color, and as per usual I knew hardly anyone there. The point is, I kind of stuck out like a sore thumb. Well, maybe not sore, more like a bare thumb, among French manicured pinkies. But these are really good people, we go back a long way, and I was happy to have been invited. Sometimes I just tire of going solo — all the time — but I digress . . .
I got my food and took an empty seat among strangers, though the host did eventually join us. He introduced me, explaining that I was his son’s music teacher.
Thurston Howell, III from Gilligan’s Island. My would-be suitor was older than Mr. Howell, but he’ll do.
Well, an older gentlemen seated across from me was simply fascinated, almost smitten. Now I don’t discuss the specifics of age but considering my wealth of life experience, a man significantly older than me has got to be pretty darn — experienced. Nay, old. But this man, by his dress, demeanor and comfort level led me to assume that he had means. I seriously doubt that this dude needed to check his balance before going grocery shopping.
I didn’t catch his name. But let’s call him Jack. Jack was quite complimentary, noting that he certainly would have stuck with his music lessons if he had a teacher who looked like me. “Wow,” he said, and inquired as to whether I had any openings . . . heh heh heh. “I don’t know how the boy could learn anything with you as his teacher.”
I tell you, I almost giggled. This flirtation from an older gentlemen of means made me — me, a grown-ass woman of feminist sensibilities — positively girlish!
I’m not sure, but I think I may have flipped my hair.
I took the comments in kind and did not pursue the matter, but . . .
Damn.
Let the record reflect that I object to the way younger women romantically involved with older rich men are maligned, called gold diggers and such. It’s offensive.
But hey, Gold Diggers, I get it now. (Shhhhhhh)
(Photo by Michael Loccisano/Getty Images)
Just Me With . . . giggles. I really wanted him to buy me something shiny. I’m just saying . . .
Just Me With . . . 
It’s funny and timely for me that you wrote this. My kids are teasing me about finding a younger man, but my eye has really been spotting those older men of means lately. I’ve always thought that was such a horrible (and kinda gross) thing, but I now, too, see the benefits. 😉
An older man of means seemed like such a nasty thing to do, a gold digger thing to do. However, approaching 67, I would have to get a reaaaaaallly old man if I went with an older man of means.
I am glad you had this little ego boost and insight into the other side of the-younger-woman-with-older-man situation. My feminist sensibilities would slip a bit with this kind of attention. Funny post.
Maybe he is thinking about buying you something shiny.
Yes, it’s all relative. It was a nice little ego boost. Something shiny? I could use a car . . . heh heh heh
Wait a minute! What do you mean, you didn’t catch his name? You just let him pass right on by? I was sure hoping that we were going to get a “to be continued”…..lol I am glad that you’re able to cross some things off of that list though! Can’t wait to read about the next one!
I’m just chicken. All talk. But one day I will actually cross one of these guys off my list. You just wait and see . . . to be continued . . .
[…] After the teen drama at home about finding the proper clothes, the complaints about why they had to go to this thing, that they don’t really know these people, blah blah blah . . . they managed to get themselves (with my prompting) ready only slightly after the 3pm deadline. But no matter, the Ex didn’t show up until 4:15pm. While they waited, one girl said, ”I hate it when he does this,” and her twin, who didn’t even start to get ready until 2:50pm, said, “I told you I’d have plenty of time.” In true Ninja Ex fashion I escaped before he arrived, going to a different graduation party alone. See I Almost Crossed One Of “My Bucket List of Men To Do” […]
You can get an entire blog out of being a gold digger!
Apparently so! hahahaha!
[…] I delayed in responding. I’d recently attended her son’s graduation party alone and though it was nice, I was a bit uncomfortable and felt very conspicuous. See I Almost Crossed One Off of My Bucket List of Men to Do. […]