Thursday, October 6, 2011

Pretty Wrapping Paper

About a month ago I started dating a guy old enough to be my grandfather. It wasn’t that I was looking for a sugar daddy. It just sort of happened one day when I was walking along. He is well known in my line of work and I wanted to tell him how much I enjoyed his work and stuff. Next thing I know we are dating. It was all sort of random and sort of weird. Then again he made me laugh and a straight guy hasn’t been able to do that in some time. Plus since my friend Roger died a year ago I found myself dedicated to my career with very little time to socialize. Sure there was that fling over the summer but what of it? I decided what was the harm of a cup of coffee?
At first the idea of this guy was sort of repulsive. He was old and painted on his eyebrows. Not to mention he had a history as a womanizer back in the day. Oh and then there was that paternity scandal in the eighties and several woman who claimed several different things. It scared me, it really did. Plus according to the internet he was married but it was never confirmed. Sure I was jumping into a shark filled ocean. But what the heck, I wasn’t going to marry the guy, right?
On our first outing he surprised me by being sharp as a tack and liking the fact that I was well read. He didn’t strike me as the lady’s man that the gossip portrayed him as. Rather he was the opposite. He made me laugh harder than I had in some time and truth be told I walked away smiling. My entire adult life the men who have chased me have had criminal records, drug problems, mental health issues and were allergic to work. This guy was successful and he seemingly didn’t have any of these things. Part of me thought this had to be an accident, but then again, it was a refreshing accident.
Right away we played phone tag and he would leave me the funniest messages. He was a character and always honest which I appreciated. Part of me wanted to run into his arms and just abandon all despite the age difference and the bad press that followed him. The other part of me wanted to hold back. Something in my gut was saying run. A lot of me didn’t feel good enough to be associated with him because of everything I had been through and all the misadventures I have had. He went out of his way to assure me otherwise. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t who everyone claimed he was. Maybe the bad press was all just idle gossip.
I knew because he was as wealthy and important as he was he questioned my motives. My motives were pure for the record. He asked me about my financial situation and he asked if I was struggling. That’s when I countered by asking him if he needed a loan. That shut him up. Of course there was the fancy dinner where he invited his friends without giving me the heads up. I think he dropped them there to see if I was in fact the next Anna Nicole. Instead I hit it off with his friends who were much closer to my age. Unlike this fossil with attitude, who let me know how much money was always being spent on me, they owned cellphones and knew how to use computers. Heck, for the entire night we were a threesome. On the other hand he was the old man at the party. While it was a relief to him I passed the friend test he seemed the odd man out. Served him right.
Well the sex question hadnt come up and I wasn’t bringing it up. I was having a good time just going to dinner and dating. For once in my life I hoped to have someone different, something different. However soon he would prove he was the same as the rest of them, actually worse. As we got to know each other I told his old fool a little about my past. I figured he might as well know from me before someone from that period in my life gives him their own version of events. He seemed understanding and forgiving that one of my old boyfriends had at one time escaped from prison.
However soon he showed his real colors. That’s when he took it upon himself to start leaving creepy messages on my machine. One was, “I have been nice to you, when are you going to be nice to me?”
The next one he was hounding me to come to his apartment and move in with him, that way I could save myself money on rent. I thought maybe I was going crazy. This wasn’t the guy who had been taking me out.
Finally against my better judgment I went out with him yesterday. He kept calling me off the hook when meanwhile I had things to do but then again no one could be as busy as he is. Well I went out with him and in front of a crowded restaurant in lurid detail this octogenarian detailed all the things he wanted to do to be sexually. He informed me he wanted to “suck me for an hour” because he thought I would taste good and clean. Then after that he informed me he was getting hard in his underwear and he enjoyed anal sex and wanted to put it in my ass. I didn’t know whether to slap him or puke everywhere. Oh and it gets worse. He announced in front of his friends who were there that I wouldn’t sleep with him. I wanted to slap him but couldn’t move my hand. No, not just because I was shocked but because the vomit was very quickly coming up my throat and set to go everywhere.
The image was making me ill.  
Part of me felt insulted that he would feel the need to speak to me this way. Was it to impress me because he thought this was what turned me on because of all my bad boys? If that was the case I would still be with them. And unlike him the bad boys, especially the ones fresh out of prison, knew how to act right in front of a lady. Was it to seem young and hip? Well he looked like a dousche bag who would score as much as Beavis and Butthead.
The other half of me felt disgusted because he is old. I kept seeing that lizardesque, leather skin naked. Not to mention the teeth aren’t his and well, the hair is so badly dyed that it would have failed at any beauty school no matter how backwoods. That image naked is up there with the jungles of Saigon. Either way he invited me back to his place and then discovered his brother and sister in law were coming over, probably a cop out for the fact he couldn’t get it up.
But before he left he critiqued my ex’s on the fact they stole occasionally. He said as someone who grew up religious he could never steal. However this man could skip out on child support and talk down to women, interesting. But let it be known the chauvinist dead beat daddy never stole. He just rips down and rips off.
Truth be told I left feeling like shit. He thought in his mind because he was a rich, old Jewish man with a lot of money who lived in a luxury apartment and had a lot of success he would speak to me like a common hooker. Plus he was looking for any little kink in my armor because the weaker I was the more willing I would be to be the Barbie doll who traveled in his shadow. I will let it be known now I am no one’s Barbie doll and I travel in no man’s shadow. I think eventually it would have killed him to know I wasn’t about to be the subservient punch line to his sad existence so perhaps it is better we part ways now.
The other half of me left knowing all the stories about him were true. He was putting on any act he had to in order to get what he wanted from me. And that made it all the more easy to take his number out of my phone. I also thought about all the other women he had screwed over. I figured I could torture him but why? I could write a blog where I named his dirty old ass but why? It would make the mean bitch that manages him jump and scream and in the end it would just give the old fart free publicity. No, I was going to hit him where it hurts. I decided to have the better career. It worked with my wannabe comedian ex fiancé who thought he was Ike Turner, and it will work again with this old fool. Yes, the old fool who likes an intelligent woman until she upstages him and flings him on his horny old ass like he deserves.  Truth be told I am only a few breaks away from doing so therefore he better watch out.
I ended up going out with a friend and he ended up calling me, ordering me to meet him at the West Way Diner. He called me again at two in the morning waiting for me and called me a few more times. In between then and now my phone broke so I wouldn’t have his number anyway. Plus he calls from a blocked number. Either way this is all good because I am not tempted to call him back. I know this isn’t the last I have heard from him. An ego such as his could not fathom ever being rejected by a woman. After all he is the type where his dick runs his life and fucks him over every time. The funny thing is, he was amazed I made it as long as I did without a guy in my life. Truth be told it isn’t that hard when you meet a few like him.
Sure I will miss his friends, they were cool as hell. While I could keep him they are more this friends than mine. I will miss being chauffeured around by his driver. I will miss the fancy, free dinners. I will miss the crazy phone messages. But I will not miss his old ass. Someone who feels that they can treat women a certain way because they have money.  Reminds me a little of how Philip Markoff thought he could treat Julissa Brisman. So that’s when I remember legend is a fancy word for has been that people somehow can still stomach. And I will see that bitch at the beach because he is a washed up old fool. And like a bunch of sea shells out of the surf I will do what I always do, step on him.
Part of me wants to cave and pick up as he calls me off the hook. Then I remember he is nothing but an ugly present in pretty wrapping paper. Love April

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