Tag Archives: Age disparity in sexual relationships

Cougars and Encroachers

Well I’ve finally figured out why so many young men are contacting me: “Extreme Cougar Wives.” I saw a preview of the TLC special on Nightline. I feel an increase of youngsters cruising my profile coming. I have a feeling they want to turn it into a “Real Cougars of NYC” or some such shit. On HuffingtonPost you can watch a clip of Jude (53) and her partner Kevin (21). The show follows three couples. The women are 53, 65 and 76 and their men range from 21 to 28.

I gotta say, I’m feeling a bit torn about this. Part of what is making this show so sensational is the May-December age gap. Have you ever seen a TLC special about men who marry women less than half their age? I didn’t think so. It’s embarrassing that it’s such a big deal. But from the preview I saw, that 76-year-old woman is a little…creepy. I admire Hattie’s verve and her youthful approach to life. I would never deny her — or anyone — what they enjoy. But the juxtaposition of her decidedly elderly appearance and that of her very young lover is jarring, to say the least. I’ve hesitated to meet for drinks — and possibly wind up in bed — with guys half my age because I shudder at the idea of my saggy flesh pressed against their firm…flesh. Mind you, it has happened. But not what I would call deliberately. More like drunkenly. Does it matter?

Unfortunately I don’t get TLC so I can’t watch the show. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to post this in time for you to watch. [I didn’t.] ButI’ll certainly try to Hulu it or whatever tomorrow.

And speaking of “old,” I’m watching “The Good Wife” and Stockard Channing is supposed to be Juliana Marguilies’s mom. I’ll just say that Hollywood women have all so altered their faces that NO ONE can play anyone’s mom anymore! Harumph!

In other news, I spent this afternoon with a charming “older” gentleman, a guy I’d contacted online once or twice. I was notified that he was “Local” by the OKCupid app and since he lives in Oakland, I emailed him to see if he was, indeed, visiting. Our getting together was somewhat spontaneous. We strolled through the garage flea market, visited Leo Villareal’s “Buckyball” in Madison Square Park and ogled the amazing merchandise at ABC Carpet and Home. When we parted, I’d expected a kiss, a real kiss, since he’d been encroaching upon my space all day, a proclivity he’d not only admitted to but discussed. Alas, he went for a peck on my cheek instead. I walked away wondering if that was a tactic to inspire more passion. And perhaps more action if we were to meet again. I’m not sure if it worked that way or not. At least if we do meet again, and if there is more passion, I won’t have to worry about being the wrinklier one!

Age. Ranging.

Richard, a 67-year-old, contacted me: intimidating you seem to me, as probably am I. where in NYC are you? What do you edit? or does your moniker misrepresent. My exhibitionism is limited to swimming and springboard diving. 
may I please hear from you? 

His profile was interesting enough, though he lives outside the city. And, you know, he’s 67. I responded: I don’t find you intimidating. Perhaps a bit beyond my age range. And I have no exhibitionist tendencies. 
Happy to meet for coffee or a beer but no possibilities of romance. [And don’t think for one second I didn’t consider making a Yoda wisecrack!]

He quickly wrote back with: can’t dispute Abby, sorry. Which made me feel bad. I told him there was no need to apologize, it was all good. But… Is it better to just meet every guy? I mean, EVERY guy? Even if there’s no chance of romance? It seems like a waste. I’m ready to be proven wrong about low “match” percentages or photos that don’t immediately appeal to me or even men who don’t have a grasp of grammar. Or spelling. But when someone is so much older than me that I’d find myself worrying about them dropping dead on a date, well… What could I have done differently?

I noticed an intriguing photo — a guy with his dog — so I emailed him: Ack. Yeah I’m way outside your age range. And I could barely read your profile cause I was blinded by that awesome shot of you and your dog. Blah blah blah email me if you feel inspired. After a few back and forths, during which he told me he’d met me, years before, back in 1993, I got the smackdown: Unfortunately, You are a wee bit outside my age range. But I remember you as stunningly groovy, if that counts for anything : )

Oof. Guess I’ve gotta be able to take what I dish out. I was gonna reply with something along the lines of “Just FYI, my last boyfriend was younger than you,” but that would’ve sounded creepy cougar-ish. Instead, I slunk away, my tail between my legs: I suppose it does. Oh well. Thanks for responding. And he shot back: Good luck in your search! Ack. That’s my see-ya-later line!

Somehow, in my head, I’ve managed to convince myself that while there’s a staggering age gap between me, at 53, and some 63-year-old retired dude who lives in the ‘burbs, I haven’t had as much success finding difficulty with the span between me — still vibrant and active and living in the big city — and guys in a similar situation who are 10 years or so younger than me. I regularly turn down 20-somethings (and, truth be told, 30-somethings) because I do think that’s a bit too much of a difference. The question is, how many years are too many years? I hate to get caught up in the numbers game and I suppose there are as many mature young guys as there are immature old guys. It all really comes down to mutual attraction and mutual interests, both of which transcend age. But those are tough to discern when you’re reduced to an online profile that telegraphs how old  you are before any other information.