Remember the Older Dude from the Circular City Week events, with whom I drank to escape Phabio? (By older, I was assuming early 40s.) He and I professionally kept in touch, and got coffee a few weeks later. Then, in May, he invited me to grab day drinks in our neighborhood. Unlike my friends, I wasn’t sure if he meant it as a date; but just to be clear that it wasn’t, I wore no makeup and told him I had to go grocery shopping afterwards (which I did!). Despite a lower-back-touch that I had to quickly wiggle away from, and a declined invitation to continue drinking on his roof, I think I did a pretty good job of establishing our friend zone. I deflected a few follow-up invites, and then didn’t hear from him again until he asked me to get drinks last weekend. He’s cool, and I assumed our age difference was enough to solidify the friendship boundaries, so I accepted. (His age has since been confirmed as 46.) Unbeknownst to him, we met up after I’d spent the afternoon drinking multiple tiki drinks at my friend’s party, but I think I managed to come off as deceptively sober. After two cocktails that I definitely didn’t need, he walked me to where I was meeting up with some other friends. He left, and we girls got ice cream! It was a perfect day of friendly socializing.
The next day, he texts me:
Nice to see you last night. How was the rest of your night? So, the few times we’ve met it’s been in this somewhat professional zone. However, I’d like to take you on a proper date sometime. You’re lovely company :)
Before you say “aww,” you should know that he has a roommate—an automatic loss of points for anyone trying to date me. Plusssss, I have the rest of my life to date 40-somethings—and only an ever-shrinking window to cradle-rob 20-somethings!
That’s very sweet, but I have to decline. I’m interested in someone else right now.
And that was that!
Who am I actually interested in? The Psychiatrist (31), who won’t text me back or make plans to see me again—of course!