Dating while forty… Part 1

Hi everyone! I hope that you enjoy this short story that I have written. It is a fictional story that’s inspired by true events. It’s hilarious at times, but true! I’m pretty sure that people in their mid-30s and up will relate to this story in some sort of way! Enjoy! 

“So, I have a date tonight,” I told my sister and my mom in a group chat. “Wow, good for you,” my sister said. “Well it’s about time,” my mom said. “I know right. It has been a while, but I figure, what better time than now to start dating again? 

I’m finally at a place in life where work is more relaxed, my schedule is more flexible, and the kids are leaving for college. Hurray,” I sent in a text with the emoji that has the party horn. “I’m so excited for you. Good luck,” my little sister texted.“Thanks,” I replied. 

“I have to go. There’s an old lady mugging me at the front desk. Let me go see what she wants. I love y’all! Bye,” my sister said. “Love ya! Bye,” I texted. “Okay, talk to you later baby. Love you. Bye,” mom texted. 

“So, tell me about this guy,” mom texted. “I don’t know much about him mom, except he seems like a nice, decent guy. We’re going on a date to get to know each other more. I’ll let you know how the date went, but for now I need to get ready. I love you! Talk to you later!”

“Okay wait, where are the two of you going?” mom texted. “Out to eat and to the movies,” I said. “Oh, so the movie theater down the street?” mom said. “No, the theater near where he lives,” I texted. “Your dad wants to know exactly where you will be, just in case something happens,” mom said.

“You two do know that I’m forty, right? I’ll be fine. However, I’ll send you both the address to both the movie theater and the restaurant, if it makes the two of you feel better,” I texted, before sending them the info. “Okay, we got it,” mom said. “Love you baby,” dad texted. “Love y’all more! Ttyl,” I said. “Have fun. Love ya, bye,” mom texted.

It’s four pm. I’ve got to hurry. I have to pick up one of my twins from work at 4:15, and I have to take one to work, on my way to my date. I love my daughters, but I will be glad when I’m finally able to get a break to live a little. I was secretly counting down the days that they’d be off to college. 

They were both thrilled that the two of them got into Howard University, but not as thrilled as me. DC is only five hours from me. I could easily drive there or they can drive to me. Which reminds me, we’re meeting their father at his car dealership tomorrow. He’s allowing both of them to pick out their own brand new car, as a graduation gift. 

The twins have a great relationship with their father, and he never misses a thing when it comes to his girls. Even when we were going through a pretty rough divorce, he always showed up to their games at school, or he’d volunteer to drive them to basketball or swim practice. He’s the one who taught them how to drive. Lord knows, I tried, but I didn’t have the patience. 

“Dang, this finger nail is crooked,” I said, looking at the finger nail that I’d just glued on. It was on the right middle finger. “F it,” I thought. I grabbed my purse and went to go get my daughter. When we got back home, I told the girls to heat up the leftovers in the fridge, for their dinner.

“Yuck mom. I’ve worked all day. Nobody wants to come home to leftover spaghetti,” my daughter Bridget said. “Well, if you don’t like it, you have a job. You’re more than welcomed to order some take out, but I’m not buying any food when we have food here,” I said. 

My daughter Bianca was already in the kitchen fixing her spaghetti to eat on her break. “I just need to hop in the shower and quickly get dressed, and then I’ll take you to work, Bianca. What time do you get off again?” I said. “10:30,” she said. “Okay, cool.” 

Bridget was busy ordering takeout online. She had an attitude with me for making them eat leftovers, but those spaghetti were bomb! At least in my opinion, and she had the nerve to talk about, she’s been working all day and don’t want leftovers, like she’s my husband or something. Chile… the nerve. Teenagers, ha! 

They are funny to me, hilarious when you have twins. People say, there’s always one good twin and one bad twin, but I don’t know. Bridget is definitely more feisty, and was once considered a mean girl, until she got in high school and realized that there were other mean girls in tenth, eleventh, and twelfth grade, who preyed on freshmen because they were fresh meat. After getting into a couple of fights and realizing how her actions and suspension affected her grades and ability to play sports, she regained focus. Although she talks a lot of crap, she now takes up for kids who gets bullied. 

Bianca is more laid back, until she’s provoked, and once she’s provoked, she goes from zero to one hundred real quick, but they’re both overall, really good girls. They do their chores, volunteer regularly, set goals and work towards them, and most importantly, they have a relationship with God! That’s why I know without a doubt, that no matter where they decide to go, they’ll be okay. I hurried out of the shower. I’d already done my hair earlier. I only had to slip on my heels and dress, and throw on a little lipstick and mascara, and I was ready to go. 

I dropped Bianca off and headed to my date. I was kind of nervous. This was my first time seeing this guy in person. We’d been chatting online. He was already in the movie theatre, and came outside to open the door for me. 

“Hey, how are you?” he said holding the door open. “Hi, I’m good. How are you? Thank you,” I said. “No problem,” he said. 

The guy had on his profile that he was thirty, but in person he looked twenty. I didn’t want to question his age. Maybe he’d found the foundation of youth. I know that black don’t crack, but he looked like a barely fertilized egg. He was a fetus! 

We saw a comedy, and then we went to a casual diner. I ordered myself a Cosmo, and he ordered two shots of Patron. The waiter asked for our ID’s, and after looking for his wallet, he realized he’d left it at home. The waitress said, “Sorry, no alcohol without proper ID.” “It’s okay, I understand,” he said. 

That’s it. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was dying to know. “How old are you?” I blurted out, before realizing that I was even speaking. “Thirty,” he said. 

“Hmm, okay,” I said. “I know. I look at least ten years younger. I get that a lot. Hey, do you think you can order two shots of Patron for me? 

I can’t believe that I left my wallet. I grabbed my keys and my money, but I forgot my wallet on my dresser,” he said. “At this point, I was certain that he was twenty, or God forbid younger. “No, sorry. Not without ID,” I said. 

“Well if I had my own ID, I wouldn’t need yours, now would I?” he said. “Exactly,” I said. He seemed to be a bit bothered that I didn’t order two shots of Patron for him. It was hilarious, and I definitely needed another Cosmo to get through this night. I was probably out here robbing the cradle and didn’t even know it. 

“So, this is going to be some relationship. You can’t even trust me,” he said. “Um, I’m sorry. Trust you? I don’t even know you like that,” I said.

“But you know me enough to go out with me, though,” he said. “Yes, in a public place. Why are you so offended?” I said. “Because, I’d do it for you if you didn’t have your ID,” he said. “Well, neither of us would be drinking then, because apparently, you left yours at home,” I said. 

“No wonder you’re forty and alone, you’re a bitch,” he said. That cracked me up. He called me out of my name for being honest. Dang, he must’ve really needed those drinks. I took another sip of my drink and added in extra sound effects to let him know how good it tasted. 

The waiter came back. “What can I get you?” she asked me. “Yes, I’d like the Stuffed chicken breast with broccoli and a sweet potato, but first, can I please get another Cosmo, and a glass of warm milk for the baby,” I said, pointing 

my head towards my date from hell. “I’m out of here,” he said, standing up. “That’s why your old ass will die alone,” he said. 

“Probably, but I’m okay with that. You have a good night sucking on your momma’s titty,” I said, as he walked away. Another waiter came to the table and said, “Ma’am, I overheard what was going on, and I went to school with that guy. We graduated last year. He’s only nineteen,” she said. 

“Damn,” I thought. “What in the hand that rocks the cradle, is going on here? I showed the waiter his profile on the dating site, and she said, “No wonder you thought he was older. It’s because of the beard, right?” she said. “Exactly,” I said. 

“I knew that he was missing something, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it,” I said. “Apparently, neither could he,” the waiter said. “What do you mean?” I said. “Look at this beard. It’s a lace front,” she laughed. 

“What? Men are out here wearing lace beards in real life?” I said. “Yes, I see it all the time. I actually cut hair part time and you’d be surprised by how many guys do this,” she said. “Well damn. 

What happened to his beard?” I said. My waiter walked up with my other drink and said, “Maybe it’s at home next to his wallet on his dresser.” The three of us cracked up! I tipped my waiter and the other waiter for the laughs. The guy was outside in front of the window where I was seated, still talking trash about me. 

I shot him the middle finger. “With them raggedy ass fingernails. That’s why one of your fingernails crooked,” he said. At this point I was laughing so hard that I was hollering and crying. Apparently, this little boy had mommy issues and was trying to drink them away.  

I immediately blocked him and changed my age range on the dating site to 35-50. I didn’t want to take anymore chances. That child was a creep, and he threw more fits than a two year old. God help him! After enjoying a nice meal alone, and FaceTiming my mom and sister to tell them about these shenanigans, I was ready for the check. 

There was a guy sitting across from me and we caught eyes. He smiled. “Hey, are you okay?” he said. “Yes,  I’m fine. Thank you,” I said. 

“I wanted to say something earlier, but it wasn’t my place, so I decided to mind my business. I wanted to come dine with you, but I saw you on your phone earlier,” he said. “Yeah, I had to vent. That was crazy, huh?” I said. “It was, but hey, you handled yourself well.

“Really? You don’t think I was insensitive?” I said. “Heck no! That kid was trying to get you to buy him liquor. You could go to jail for that,” he said. 

“Ex-actly,” I said. “Hey, can I pay for your dinner? I’m embarrassed because it’s boys like that who makes us men look bad,” he said. “Oh, that’s sweet, but you don’t have to,” I said. “Please, I insist,” he said. 

“Well, if you insist, go ahead. Thanks,” I said, holding out my hand to shake his. “Martin, I’m Deangelo Martin, but my friends call me by my last name. “Okay, nice to meet you Martin, but I have to go,” I said. “No problem. 

Can I have your number?” he said. “Sure, wait, how old are you,” I said, jokingly. He was clearly my age from the few strands of grey that danced across his waves and beard. We shared a laugh. “Just kidding. 

Sure,” I said, before giving him my number. He gave me his. “Well, Martin, it was nice to meet you,” I said. “You as well. I’ll talk to you soon,” he said. “Okay, bye,” I said. “See ya,” he said.

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