A compliment for a lovely lady
It’s unusual for me to write to someone
who is so much younger than myself,
but you are seemingly much different
than the average run of the mill
seem so firmly planted
on terra firma.
You appear to be bright and cheerful
and willing to stick your toe
into new and exciting waters.
I like curiosity in a person,
which you seem to have
and of course
you are just lovely.
I am a cheerful, fit,
and emotionally well adjusted man.
I take each day
on its own merits.
There is always something new to discover
and a new path to follow
wherever it might lead.
I am a curious traveler,
an innovative cook,
a man whose talents are now given
to writing fiction
and whose favorite physical activities
are tennis, hiking, biking,
Toss in a trip to a museum,
the theater opera
and you start to get a clear picture
of the man behind the keyboard
Yes, there is an age gap between us.
a little voice tells me
that you march
to your own drummer;
that you might be someone
who is inclined toward living her life
out of the ordinary box
and be interested overcoming
the great American taboo
concerning older/younger friendships.
please do review my profile
and if the spirit moves you,
I’d love to hear back from you.
Before we get started here, I’d like to conduct a little math lesson:
My age x 2 = this guy’s age.
That concludes our lesson.
I hate to admit this, but I have to settle for simply marching to the beat of my own drum. I’m just not wealthy enough to afford my own drummer. But this guy is apparently rich enough to have his own drummer to whom he can march AND he thinks he’s got the dough to successfully pseudo-anonymously hit on women (literally) half his age. Sir, you deserve a 24-karat gold-plated golf clap. *clap-clap-clap-clap-clap*
Then he has to go and talk about boxes. Yes, my mind is in the gutter. Hey, I wonder if there are any cheap drummers down in the gutter…?
You know what? The spirit does move me! It moves me to mockery rather than to hitting the “reply” button, though. Good luck with all your “theater opera” (whatever that is) and befriending other 20- and 30-somethings while you fill out your AARP application forms.
i’m moving to DC in sept.
I really liked your profile
and hope you are interested
i’m moving to dc with wook
and would love to meet.
Hold up. September? He sent me this in July. July! That’s 2 whole months before his move! Do you know what could happen in 2 months? I could meet the love of my life. I could get transferred to Swaziland. I could lose all my net worth in a pyramid scheme and get thrown in jail. I could go lesbo. I can’t even figure out what I’m going to have for dinner before 6pm, yet this guy wants me to plan a date 2 months in advance?
Wook. I’m not even going to go there today. Oh, and he’s one of those anti-capital letter types. I suppose he’s too busy getting ready for his upcoming move to bother with the Shift key. Everyone is hatin’ on the Shift key these days. Really, what did the Shift key ever do to anyone? It’s like the Napoleon Dynamite of the keyboard – it’s in an awkward place, so often ignored, and wants nothing more than a few tots now and then. Poor Shift key.
And I’m not even going to mention how this guy is too old for me and looks a lot like Dom Delouise. Oops, I just did.
Wish I lived in DC :(
What do you think?
Oh, the tragedy. Yes, he lives a few hundred miles away. But the truly tragic part of this is what you can’t see…
Here we have yet another geezer that is old enough to be my father and has tricked himself into thinking that someone 18 years his junior might actually want to talk to him. Monkeys might fly out of my butt, too. You believe that, right?
Now for his profile picture. Remember when your parents dragged you to Olan Mills as a kid year after year to have your picture taken? You had to get all dressed up in an outfit that you only wore to church, then the photographer put you in front of some god-awful backdrop with a farmhouse and fall foliage or a bizzare abstract assortment of neutral colors like blue and grey. He’d sit you down on a fake log or other equally dumbass object, make you face the backdrop, arrange your arms and hands in a completely unnatural pose, tell you to crane your body around toward the camera like a Chinese contortionist, cock your head to the side and SMILE!
That’s his profile pic. Smile and say “creepy”!
Great smile n much more..
Interested in going to a hockey game
at the verizon center?
Hope to hear back..
Oh darn! I made plans to clean the crevices in the dashboard of my car with a toothbrush tonight.
I have to wonder exactly how long someone has to go without getting laid in order to email a complete stranger and ask her out for THAT NIGHT. On top of that, Hockey Man didn’t even bother asking me my name. The nerve. The balls. The… utter desperation. Anyone who is going to respond to an email like this would have to be equally as desperate. And at that point, why bother with an actual date? Just make it a booty call – that way both parties can get the years (and years and years) of abstinence behind them as quickly as possible.
Oh, did I mention this guy was far outside my desired age range?
I have to wonder about something else, too… is it possible that this is a form email? He could have sent to this to dozens of women in the area just hoping that one of them would take the bait. But wait… what if more than one woman accepts his invitation? Then he’s automatically a STUD! Women want him! Men want to be him! Hockey Man can picture himself… waltzing into the Verizon Center… a woman on each arm… he can sense the envy of the other men and the stares of the other women wondering, “ooh, who’s that sex bomb of manly hotness?” It’s everything he’s ever dreamed of! He’s like George Clooney! Brad Pitt! He’s going to be famous!!!
I bet he went to that hockey game alone, drank himself into a stupor, and missed the Metro home. Sucker.
where did you
pet the Cheetah?
I love Cheetah’s
and would love to have one
as a pet ;-)
about the pet part,
but how cool
would that be?
Well, it seems Cheetah Man was rather taken by the picture above, which I included in my profile. I thought it was pretty nifty to be able to pet a wild animal that could rip off an appendage had he merely been in the mood to do so, but I didn’t leave thinking, “Hey, this sucker would make a fabulous pet! He’s got fur like a Brillo pad and could chow down on every animal on my block. Now I just have to get him through customs…”
There’s a bigger problem here, though… Cheetah Man is easily old enough to be my father. Social security is not too far off for this one. He may be filling out his AARP membership application in anticipation of the Golden Years, but by golly he’s hip enough to use “OMG” in an email. And seeing that Cheetah Man isn’t all that far from retirement, maybe he’s thinking of activities to fill his time in his old age. Perhaps a visit to a 4th grade classroom to learn about the proper use of an apostrophe?