Well, that or the fact that for those of us who are like that, even our sexuality is pretty much a non-starter among people our own age anyway. I can’t work [insert name of classier replacement for Le Château here], I don’t go to the gym, and I don’t take Tina, so I’m pretty much SOL for a good eight tenths of my generation. Oh well. So every once in a while I do like a fellow who appreciates me for my body AND my mind, and they usually tend to be a good five to fifteen years older than me. Hey, whatever works!
AND witty into the bargain!!
Just dinner? Not at all. (or, on the off chance that he’s like me, yes but in a good way.) Anyway, that’s the way it usually works when we broke students take each other out: whoever has money pays.
Sorry, I wasn’t clear (damn stomach flu - I feel all loopy) - but I meant what you said. Whoever asks for the date pays, unless you agree to go dutch. Person being asked doesn’t pay.
Nothing to add, except this minor superficial detail that might cheer you up even more.
I’ve noticed younger people don’t notice signs of physical aging as much as older people do in themselves. I think it’s because you have to have seen signs of aging in yourself to be able to recognize them in others.
If you’ve studied your face in your bathroom mirror, in harsh light in a faultfinding mood, undoubtdly you will have gone: “eww” at your own sagging cheeks, blemished skin etc. Younger people haven’t seen those (who would have given access to that kind of close scrutiny?) so they can’t see those signs of aging.
They are, in my experience, more inclined to detemine “age” by looking at attributes like clothes, amount of hair and hairstyles, musical interests etc.
I think that’s how The Rolling Stones and U2 still manage to be hot to kids.
Honestly, if I were a broke student, and my date (with a good job) didn’t offer to pay for the meal, I don’t think I’d be going on many more dates. Because there is a large disparity in income, I really think it’s appropriate that you should pay. Otherwise, he might decide your friendship is too expensive for him.
And I don’t think that by simply paying for a date you have any reason to think of yourself as a sugar daddy. Now, if you offered to pay his rent, buy him lavish gifts, etc., then you might be crossing that line. Until then, stop worrying. It will either work out with him or not, but not for trifle little things like picking up his tab at dinner. Just bring everything you can to the relationship, and be authentic.
Sampiro, I hadn’t intended to add anything to this thread, but probably ought to add my voice to all the others that you are indeed a handsome-looking and witty man who needs to improve his self-image. What triggered my decision to do so was research for a quite different thread, the one on Mondegreens over in GQ, where Jon Carroll’s SFGate column reported this, which I quote here for your amusement:
Here’s hoping that you stop thinking of yourself in terms of the Mondegreen, and hear it right – on the arm of that guy!
I see nothing weird or icky about two people meeting for lunch and/or dinner and seeing if there’s a connection. Age is an issue only if there’s a huge disparity in maturity. If you’re attracted to him on an intellectual level already, then you’re half way there. There is a whole lot more that you have to learn about him (e.g. does he kick puppies?) before you can determine if there’s a chance at a long term relationship, but for now enjoy the discovery phase while it lasts.
Shit, but this is so true. The first message I got was “let me know if you want a blowjob”. Of course I do, but can’t you kind of work up to that? Do you really have to use it as a conversation starter? The best message I’ve got so far (only been a member of one of these places for a few days though) was “hey, how’re you doing?”. Sure, that’s OK as a conversation starter, but couldn’t you have tried something a bit more interesting?
Back to the topic of the thread: grab the guy and run. I’ll just echo what everyone else has said: you fell for him before you knew he was young, and you don’t look like Burl Ives anyway.
Unhook your dinghy (snicker) from the dock and row yourself out into open waters. Frightening? Yes. But how will you ever see something new?
Besides you kinda look like this
I thought that, too, but wondered if that was too obvious. Dictionary.com didn’t have an entry for “gaiman” and I’m too frightened to do a generic web search lest I have a repeat of the unfortunate “felch” incident.
And as for felch- I had no idea what it meant… until just now… thanks. (My “felch” experience [as in “what does that mean? Let’s ask the oracle at Google…”] was “pearl necklace”, which I not only found a description of but a picture… ew… that’s what Handiwipes are for!")
So- another wonderful evening last night (though still no beast with one-to-four backs stuff). He’s the only kid his age I’ve met since I was a kid his age- hell, he’s the only person I’ve met of any age in a long time- who can mention Eartha Kitt, telomerase, Rube Goldberg devices [he knew what a Rube Goldberg device is and used it in a sentence! Do you have any idea how rare that is down here in general and with kids his age in particular?), Josef Goebbels, the fallen angel Samael, Woolf’s uses of mythological imagery, Mark Twain’s odd names for his cats, Pinky & the Brain, Bewitched and Adam Sandler all in the same evening, know what he’s talking about each time, and sound neither the least bit pretentious or affected, neither hiding his light under a bushel (which you’re heavily encouraged to do in public schools down here and I suspect elsewhere) or using it as a sword. AND GODDAMN BUT HE’S SO LICKABLE!
But it turns out I shouldn’t have been concerned over his being 22, because it turns out he isn’t.
But he will be in a few months.
I broke the “Don’t Ask/Don’t Tell” rule last night because I just had to know. He graduated high school at 16 and so he’s a college senior at 21. Fuck me gently with a chainsaw- the boy’s umbilical chord probably hasn’t decomposed yet.
He let me pay for dinner and the movie last night but insisted we go someplace of mid-price range or less (a good compromise). We both had to work this morning but we both still stayed out until 3:00 a.m. driving around the city and talking and talking and talking about anything and everything, and I might be wrong or just hopeful but it does occur that if I have trouble finding people of any age who can talk about the things we talk about (which ranges from totally silly to “the big questions” to weird connections and segways all around) he must have trouble as well.
Ah, in the name of the three blind principal gods of the Baltimore Mass Transit System I curse with plague the fates who played such a trick. If he were just a few years older I’d set course and damn the torpedoes full speed ahead; if he were a few years younger I swear I’d adopt him (even if his parents have some sort of sentimental attachment or whatever). Instead he’s in that middle ground where the two urges hit head on and clash.
Anyway, totally babbling. Thanks for any input though.
PS- After the movie last night (we were the only two in the theater, and while we did sit with arm contact the entire time no hand holding or anything unfortunately-we didn’t leave the customary “I’m Not a Fag” empty seat between men, though) we talked for a little while while still in the theater. I was looking at him and simply had to make contact so I told him “I am totally going to kiss your forehead, just so you’ll know” and I did, to which he laughed and said “Are you my grandmother now?” We kissed cheeks when we said goodnight several hours later, but that’s it as far as physical contact.
I met him last week and I think I already love this kid. Which has me worried because, as some of you may know, I haven’t been in love since December. When it was with a married [ahem] “straight” guy (who nobody believes is straight or even bi but him and possibly [though not definitely] his fourth wife, it turns out).
I REALLY AM NOT LIKE THIS! I swear to the Great Oz that I don’t fall in love every twelve minutes. I’ve gone for years and years and years til now with nothing more than the occasional “ooh- nice butt” observation and sustaining myself through occasional romantic movies and less occasional gerkin jerkin’, but suddenly it’s raining men. I’ve gone from Peter the Hermit in a season ("this one’s too married… this one’s too young… ") so perhaps this next will be just right. Or I can somehow merge the two… (they couldn’t be more different physically save that they’re both tall and dark haired, but if I could just get a razor from each, an unfertilized egg and a test tube…)
Will you accept gales of totally sympathetic laughter as an honest response to this post? Trust me, I know exactly what you’re saying; if you should want a more private mode of talking out your tossed salad of emotions, my e-mail’s in my profile.
But, friend, he has made it to the ripe old age of legal majority unaided, gay, in the Deep South. Think that through. And stop checking him to make sure his Pampers aren’t wet – if anything besides your own self-perception of the age problem messes this relationship up, it’ll be you failing to give him his due as the age he is – and the greater age his maturity is.
What I’m saying is, he’s old enough to know his own mind – and heart. Now stop worrying and count your blessings.
