For some reason, I’ve had a lot of hesitation as to whether to post this.
There are a few things that I’ve chosen to keep relatively quiet, so far. Not because I’m embarrassed, but because it’s one thing to talk about going on 30 dates in 30 days. It’s quite another to talk about more than an innocent date that goes no further than a pash and crotch grab in the Barina.
There were a few ‘rules’ that I set myself during this challenge. One was, I probably shouldn’t sleep with anyone unless I had 10 dates with them. For me, that’s a general rule I try to stick to because it usually rules out the type of guy I wouldn’t want to sleep with regardless.
It’s not that I’m against casual sex. I’m all about it. Heck, sex is great when it’s casual, naked and some T.I is playing in the background. It’s just that I’m against casual bad sex. If we’ve only met once, the banter’s average even though there’s alcohol involved, I doubt I’m going to get more than six-to eight minutes (if I’m lucky) of boring Netflix and chill.
Another rule was, if I don’t want my Mum, Dad or Grandma to read about it then I probably shouldn’t be posting about it in the first place. Luckily for me, my parents raised my sister and I according to the “you do you, babe” school of thought (although those words were never said). The bar for shocking my parents is set pretty high. I broke my front teeth when I was 19 while completely intoxicated at a bar. Both of my parents came to the dentist with me, where my Dad is still making the joke “that’s what you get for dancing on tables.” Sure, my parents don’t want to hear about all my pashfests in the Barina, but I think they probably understand that I’m not at home reading some Mills & Boon waiting for da one to come to me.
In short, if you’re upset by the life choices of others, you should probably stop reading. I don’t know why you even got this far. With that out of the way, I’ll admit that I totally met up with the Silver Fox from Date #11.
There was an instant attraction. This guy oozed confidence through his voice, the way he stood on the side of the road and the way he looked at me. He messaged me while Date #11 was wrapping up, and I tottered down the road to meet him. Not that I need to justify meeting someone almost twice my age, but if you really need a reason,will “because I wanted to” suffice?
The Silver Fox and I meet up and it’s late, 10.20pm on a Thursday night. I’m kind of drunk, I probably don’t look cute at this stage, but curiosity and attraction have carried me this far. We meet at D4, which isn’t my usual place to dine or drink so I suggest we go to the Green Man which is probably way more up his alley, anyway.
We drink Gin and Tonics and I find out more about him. He’s in Wellington on business and is originally from Australia. He’s married, but separated, and now has a new partner. He has two kids. It’s very clear that he doesn’t want to focus on this part of his life, so I don’t push it. Ultimately, I don’t want to know and he doesn’t want to talk about it.
After a few drinks, he suggests we go for a walk. We walk along the waterfront, it’s freezing (like 11.30pm in the middle of winter freezing) and he helps me warm up by wrapping me up into his big suit jacket. There didn’t really feel like there was a massive age-gap between us, except for when he mentioned that he worked on a song in the late 90’s. I don’t think he’s from Savage Garden.
I put my hand on the back of his head and found that he was incredibly light on hair back there, something being short lead to me missing. Urgh, old people problems. Yet, still we started kissing along the waterfront with his hands wandering everywhere.
I didn’t go back to his apartment with him. The conversation came up and in my drunken mind, I couldn’t tell whether or not this was a good idea, knowing he had a wife, a new partner and kids in Australia. It’s so easy to pretend like they’re not a factor when there is zero mention of them other than telling me they exist. I told him that I’d love to see him tomorrow and so he put me in an Uber and asked me to let him know I got home alright.
He asked me for a drink the following night and was pretty persistent.. “Miss u want u …*sigh*” and when I told him that my friend had come over (anyone remember the Crotch grabber) he offered to send them home and pay for their dinner.
I flaked out a few more times over the next few weeks, not that I think he got the idea. It became apparent to me that there wasn’t enough of a connection to justify it to myself. In hindsight, I was probably just drunk and lonely. Realistically, it’s not a situation that one would knowingly agree to based on the likely outcome… What, he’s going to fall in love with me and move to NZ to be with me, or I fly over there and play Step Mum #3? Uh…
So with that, to those who presumed that I bedded an old dude, I’m sorry to have lead you on..
Oh, and no, I won’t say whether or not I found him in the Ashley Madison leak.