That dirty old fucker

At what point do you become the creepy old dude? When is an age gap really an issue.

I have been pondering this of late. I am pushing towards that magical 40. The marker at the end of your dirty thirties.

It has been some time now since my last long term relationship and I wonder if I will have another. I honestly wonder if I am ready to compromise where I need to and open myself up again.

To throw trouble into the mix I seem to hanging with the wrong age group. I don't know exactly how it happened but just seem to have a disproportionate number of young female friends in my life.

By young I mean 20-23 year olds. Obviously it is a dancing thing but it is also through Kite surfing and climbing.

Girls my age seem to be either hanging in wine bars, married or watching TV with a tub of ice cream. I suppose they are out there but they just don't seem to be out doing the stuff I enjoy.

The ones that are, are all loved up and awesome people but just not available...they are the women I want but can't seem to find one who is single.

As my last couple of posts alluded to, there is a girl of interest who is age appropriate, who is active in most of the ways I like (although not much of a water baby...) but, and this is the killer as there is always a fucking but, she seems to have the most anoying commitment issues herself. She is hereby named Miss Unpredictable and I honestly have no idea where we stand.

It is at the point that I want to walk away from something that could be awesome because she is doing my head in. On the occasions that we have hooked up the sexin was good but it was not insane. It was a tad vanilla and to be honest, she just did not seem to be in the zone - not hungry. I like hungry. I like a girl who knows what she wants and demands it. Sex, roll over and go to sleep is not how it is supposed to be, especially at the start of a relationship.

So rewind to last night. One of my other, younger buddies is talking about friends with benefits while we climbed. She was bemoaning the fact that her last bit of fun had a girlfriend now, and the other option was overseas. God damn it, she had an itch that needed scratching.

Here was my dilemma. We have been mates for some time now, a couple of years. We are cuddly affectionate people but there is 17 years between us so it has never looked like crossing that line.

We have talked about all sorts of fun stuff and both joked and talked ourselves up on bedroom technique and etiquette but it was always a little at arms length because to be honest, I did not want to be knocked down for hitting on a 22 year old chick.

An insanely hot 22 year old chick. She dances, pole dances, climbs..in a word, fit.

Anyhow, after a big night of climbing we went back to my place on a whim and ended up curled up on the couch together watching good old MasterChef that I had recorded while we were out.

It was a do or die moment. In a flash we were together in a very cosy position that I had not even tried to engineer.

At the end of the show it was time to make a call on the situation. "So do you want a ride home or do you want to crash here and that itch scratched?"

I braced for the laugh, the knock back, the face screwed up "ewwwww!"

With the cheekiest of smiles she looked me in the eye, gave my leg a squeeze and suggested that if it could stay uncomplicated, mutual itch scratching was a fantastic idea and too long coming.

In an instant, the age gap was forgotten. This girl, so young, was the most sexually self aware and demanding bed partner I have had in a couple of years. I have not slept so little in a night of fun that just never seemed to end.

You know it is a fun night when you first roll into bed at midnight and while you are going for it yet again, the garbage trucks start rolling by and the sun peeks over the horison.

Un-fucking-believable is all I can say and work is killing me. So much so that I am writing this post rather than do what I should be doing.

If I knew for sure I was dating Miss Unpredictable then I would have to admit to being a cheating bastard but right now with so little communication and commitment from her I don't know what I am.

Opportunistic is probably the most appropriate word.

At the risk of bragging this is one opportunity I am so glad I got. It reminded me what makes me tick, what I want in a sexual partner and the connection, the raw desire I need to feel.

I had wondered if a slightly lack lustre sex drive on my part was age related and I have to say after last night, hell no. I just hadn't been with the right girl since a particular lady and a bathtub that I have yet to write about....

Miss Unpredictable has a date with me tonight and as crass as it sounds I get to do the side by side taste test.

It is going to be an interesting night indeed.

Enough

I am not one to whine but seriously this is pissing me off.

I want to move on with my life and find that person. I want to share adventures, dancing, good food and laughs. There is plenty more of all to do yet.

I don't want to be worshipped and coupled 24/7 but I want a spark and passion and focus when we are together.

I want my toes to curl, I want to make your toes curl.

I need smart and creative, witty and dark. A touch of style and a bucket of self confidence.

What I have got is one sided and as good as over. Again.

Fuck it.

Roll on Friday. Is it time to go for a drink yet?

Standing up for myself

So I was stood up

But I got up and made other plans

Bigger plans with younger fans

When my fun was done, I saw the text

Where are you now, what is going on?

I got stood up and I need some fun

Delete

Get with the program, the wheel turns fast

I've already moved on

Old enough to know better

Age is a funny thing. Now more than ever I am convinced it is as much in your head as your bones.

Right now my bones are giving me a gentle reminder of what I have done with my nearly 39 years so far but after the weekend just gone I am amused to know that I pulled up better than friends 6 to 17 years younger.

As a side note, actually writing that number is a little shocking - It dawned on me just last night how old I actually was last night when I was doing some paperwork.

You see, Saturday I did about 3 hours of kite surfing, working hard on some big tricks and actually landing some - back rolls, raleys, hand drag back roll transitions, kite loops - all the fun stuff that puts your body on the line.

Sunday afternoon had more of the same in a solid 30 knots of breeze and I have to admit that when I came off the water things were aching just a little.

I checked my phone and there was confirmation that my latest flame could just be the one I have been looking for.

"Heading over to the States sports centre for gymnastics at 7 with the gang. Wanna play?"

Now, I have never done gymnastics. I wish I had but tumbling and being thrown at mats has been strictly limited to martial arts while under the age of 22. Sure I tumble through the air under a kite but that is over water.

Wandering into the gym, I was confronted by a sea of blue bouncy fun like the biggest padded cell R.P. McMurphy had ever seen.

This is where the age thing hit home. Paperwork, sign your life away - gymnastics will kill you at some point so you do this at your own risk - you idiot. And how old are you?

In my head I am late 20's, 30 at the max. My fingers corrected that with the rude shock that somehow I had nearly got to 39 years old.

My partners in crime against gymnastics were all between 22 and 33 with the normal class participants more like 18-24. Scary to think of it this way but some of these guys and girls were born about the same time I finished school. Conceived the same time as I was trying not to.

For a moment I paused and wondered what on earth I was thinking. Why are all my closest mates so much younger than me. Am I that creepy older dude that hangs around making people feel awkward?

Then I realised that I can still out perform and out last most of these kids. Right now I am getting back to the fittest I have been and am pushing harder than ever. It feels great.

After an hour and a half, we were a ball of messy sweat and silly grins. Somersaults, back flips, spectacular crashes into mats and pits of foam blocks from the trampolines. An insane amount of swinging and grunting on the uneven bars and a hit to the nuts on the pommel horse. We had done it all.

Today the messages flowed in...this hurts, that hurts and while I have to admit I could do with a new set of quads, seriously kids you need to harden the fuck up.

I am ready to do it again and my only disappointment is that I have to wait until Sunday.

Premiere

As always, there are engagements and functions to attend at this time of year and strutting your new found single status is a little tiresome among old friends. It is so much more fun to shake things up with surprises.

An old, old, like started school together old, friend returned to Sydney a few days back to premiere a film he had made.

He is one of those people who ooze success and talent. He is a joy to be around and despite him now being based in Europe with subsequent long breaks between catch ups, it is like old times when we hang out.

The premiere was going to be full of old friends and acquaintances. Industry types looking glamorous with much back slapping and ass patting. There would be so many people that I had lost contact with or just not seen face to face for years once my mate, the nucleus of the group moved away.

I needed a date at short notice for this night of nights. Single all of three days after a weekend of gut wrenching shit that is another failed relationship. It was a big ask, but my life has a magic touch to it and 24 hours after the farewell discussion an opportunity slid into view.

Attractive, foreign, well educated and liberated. Her shoulders sun kissed and rippling in toned muscle and tickled by the tips of her coiled blond locks of hair. Conversation was easy through her accent as we laughed at the antics of single life and the adventures of trying to remain single for long enough to enjoy the summer months without commitment or constraint.

It was all about the moment for her, no plans to be tamed just yet. Date, be merry and tell the boys to piss off once they got serious or clingy. A player of the female type.

We exchanged numbers on Sunday night and agreed that drinks some time soon would be fun.

On Monday night I tossed an turned over who to take to the premiere....option X would be fun but she would presume it was a real date which I did not want, option Y would not fit into that crowd, option Z could be a future lover and as such way too soon to bring to the party.

Scrolling through the phone I saw her number and hesitated. Why not?

So I did.

She said she would love to come along. A fist may or may not have been punched into the air right there and then.

I explained the motivation, it was one of those events where you need accessories, shiny ones. Preferably shinier that every one else's. It would be fun, the film should be entertaining and the company stimulating. She was excited and agreed that bling was obligatory and she looked forward to sparkling.

On picking her up from her apartment with harbour views I was greeted by a vision in a slinky dress. Shoulders out and every curve shown to perfection. If I had booked an escort for the night I don't think I could have done as well.

On arrival, heads turned as planned. There were lots of pretty people there as expected but I had a quality cut diamond on my arm for sure.

In a group of old school friends and film school/uni mates the question as expected was blurted out by the person most likely to ask awkward questions.

"How long have you two been together?"

Before I could answer an arm slipped around my waist and with a confidence that made me hard in an instant she explained to the group that while it has not been long, it is lots of fun.

I just smiled and sipped beer while she talked about kite surfing and travel, so happy to be in the passenger seat for a change and knowing I just hit social gold at exactly the right moment.

The problem with cheating

I don't work in the city, I don't do suits. I don't do office drama and drunken Friday night shenanigans with the girls from abc bank/lawyers/brokers.

It is not my scene. Just never has been.

On Friday I was reminded why.

I went into town to join a mate for drinks of the Friday evening office worker type.

On arrival she greeted me with a smile and warm kiss. The sort of kiss in a crowd that says, he is mine ladies so back off.

That is fine, I already knew she was coming home with me so I was more than happy to be owned.

The real sport was in watching a Billy Zane wanna-be get shot down by a bunch of women for being a cheating twat.

You see Billy is engaged, all but one of the girls knew this and the rest were manoeuvring like reef sharks. The girl who didn't know this little detail had been picked up by Billy earlier in the night at another bar. Foolishly he bought his trophy with him to this gathering of friends and acquaintances.

Now there are some simple things about cheating that you learn early in life.

1) you will probably get caught.
2) among women, a cheating man may as well have the pox.
3) among boys, a cheating man is just as likely to be hung out to dry just for the sport of cutting his grass.

The simple solutions are, don't cheat or do it in private. All other options will lead to pain.

Billy must have been a slow learner. The sharks were circling.

The first one darted in for a taste.

"So have you known Billy long?" an innocent smile asked.

I squirmed for Billy, there was blood in the water.

"Do you know him through Julie?"

Ouch. The colour started to drain from his face.

"Um no, Who is Julie?" Billy's mark enquired.

"Oh...no one. Billy can explain." as she backed away.

Billy squirmed. Panic was starting to show in his eyes.

I sat back and got comfortable with drink in hand and wondered how he would escape the inevitable.

Sure enough, another shark, emboldened (or is that embalmed) by cocktails started circling. She had that look that said that if he was going to cheat on his fiancée then it should be with her not that new slapper he just met.

"So what is your fiancée doing tonight? Why isn't Julie here?" the razor sharp teeth gnashed.

"You have a fiancée?" her voice boomed as all nearby conversation lulled.

Like a grenade had been lobbed into the room, people started to dive for cover. There was no etiquette of women and children first, this was a full scale, every man for himself abandon ship.

A few of us sat there transfixed, ready to run but not going to miss a moment. It was the proverbial train wreck.

The interloper stood and straightened her skirt. It was a motion that tried to scream dignity and poise. The shark started to smirk showing teeth like great white. Billy looked around the room for support and found his friends deep in hushed conversation or the tourists like me grinning back like idiots. There was no support. He was a dead man walking.

She turned on one 3.5 inch heel and walked without a word. Billy followed like a scolded puppy dog. Leaving his jacket and manbag.

Like a wave rushing up the beach, conversation resumed but not soon enough to cover the strangled "Just fuck off!" from the street.

We giggled like children at poor Billy. What a tool.

The last shark to have a nibble, grabbed a serviette, scribbled a note and thrust it into his jacket pocket. She would not say what was on it - I can only guess it was either her number or a note to his fiancée....we may never know.

Billy slunk back in. Tail between his legs. The girls all cheered and raised their glasses. Billy sneered, called them cunts and left. They cheered again.

My girl snuggled into my neck and chuckled that there was nothing like front row seats for Friday night theater. I had to agree.

It was all rather funny if you weren't Billy.

The mark of a woman.

I can't remember the last time I got a hickey.

That ugly red bruise, like you have been hit in the neck with a high velocity squash ball.

A mark that screams teenage passion, territorial marking and mischief most recent.

Actually I can remember the last one...it was fucking yesterday.

In a moment of mock rage I suggested she just cock a leg and piss on me if she wanted to mark me...there was a pause as she considered it. A long enough pause that I regretted the suggestion.

Kite surfing, yacht racing and swimming are my only waters ports .

She knows I am a player and this is the price I have to pay. A mark to warn others off I suppose.

Talk about not playing fair.