Mrs. Robinson Strikes Back

Things have been fairly quiet on the dating front of late. I’ve been out with two or three guys, but nothing much to talk about. One guy was very skilled at taking pics of himself in such a way that you’d never know how round he was. Imagine kind of a human light bulb. Combine that with the fact that he wore man Spanx {or Under Armour? Some kind of containment device that was in constant danger of failing catastrophically} and smelled very much like he just lost all control of his bladder, and it was just too much for this girl to deal with. Ain’t NOBODY got time for that! Another guy was very sweet and charming one-on-one, but in public {or, at least, in Facebook land} he was vulgar, rude, and downright adolescent. Ain’t nobody got time for that, either.

So I was kind of in dating limbo, when Stacy suggested that I contact this guy from one of the groups we’re both in on Facebook. I checked out his profile and he seemed decent enough and kind of cute, so I took a chance and got in touch with him. We started chatting and seemed to be getting along pretty well, but then he casually said that he was 28. 28?? {brakes screeching}

That didn’t end so well last time, so of course I was hesitant to continue. He insisted that age meant nothing and he really wanted to meet me. I finally agreed and we met for dinner later that week. He was sweet, funny, and easy to talk to. He had an odd way of eating tortilla chips with two hands, but otherwise he was pretty normal.

We went for a walk after dinner and did a little smooching. It was nice and simple… just what I needed. He worked kind of crazy hours, but he made a point to try to see me whenever he could, which was refreshing. He was very attentive, texting every day and calling almost every night. I mentioned his age to Stacy, and we started referring to him as Finch {as in the guy with a thing for Stifler’s mom in American Pie}.

Stifler's mom has got it goin' on

Stifler’s mom has got it goin’ on

After we had been talking for two or three weeks, he called me one night and said he was on his way to the hospital to see a friend who had just been in a car accident. He ended up staying in the ER with this person until well past midnight. I found out later that the friend was female. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that but I let it go. A few days later, he said he was on his way to meet a friend who had asked him to help “them” go shopping for a new car. I immediately knew it was a female friend. Otherwise, why not just say he was going with one of his buddies? I didn’t immediately say anything about it, until he called back after he was done car shopping. He said, “I hope I don’t regret what I did today.” I jokingly asked if he had bought a car. He said no, but he had financed his friend’s car. What the hell? I don’t know about you, but I don’t think any of my friends would consider financing a car for me, no matter how close we are.

I said that I knew he was talking about a female and told him that after he spent the wee hours in the ER with this girl {it was the same one, by the way} and now financing her car, I couldn’t help but wonder where I could possibly fit into the equation. He insisted that they were just friends, nothing more. Hmmmm…now where had I heard that before? He also said that if I had a problem with this friendship, then he guessed we’d go our separate ways. Umm…what? He’s supposedly so interested in me, but if I’m not comfortable with his involvement with this girl, I’m the one who gets kicked to the curb?? Needless to say, I saw it as the beginning of the end for Finch. We did talk later, and cleared the air a bit, but I was still apprehensive about the whole thing.

At this point, we’d been talking and sort of seeing each other for about a month. Nothing beyond some making out had ever occurred, mostly because we hadn’t had any real privacy yet. He had gone to first base a couple of times, so I was under the assumption that he’d welcome some actual fooling around. One weekend, I knew my daughter would be with her dad, so I asked Finch if he wanted to come over. I said I would fix supper and we could watch movies. Sounded like a nice evening in, right? We watched two movies, and other than a little making out on the couch, nothing happened. I had asked if he wanted to stay over, and he said he couldn’t because he had to run errands for his elderly mother in the morning. It sounded like a lame excuse to me. After all, what errands could he possibly have that would be hampered by him staying at my place? But I let it go.

It was getting late, and we were both getting tired. I asked if he wanted to lie down, and he said he was fine on the couch, then quickly said we could go lie down if I wanted to. So I got up and walked into the bedroom, and he followed me. We laid down on the bed and at first nothing happened. I kissed him, and then we started making out. Long story short, there was a handy J {not to completion}, and he gave me a handy J {to completion but only semi-satisfying}. Oh, and after he was done, he wiped his hand on my leg. Yes, really. What the hell is THAT about?? Shortly after, he said he had to go, and began getting dressed. I felt like some horny old broad, throwing myself at him. It wasn’t quite like that, but I initiated everything that happened that night, and he hardly seemed into it. Not great for the old ego, you know?

The next day when he called, I knew I was basically done. I said it really hadn’t seemed like we were on the same page the night before. He claimed that it had only been a few months since his last relationship and that I was the first girl he’d fooled around with since then. I later spoke to my friend Ace about the whole incident, to get a guy’s perspective. Ace said that if he was on the bed, going to 2nd, he was sure as hell rounding 3rd and heading for home, whether he had to leave or not. Stacy asked if Finch was a virgin when I told her about it. I would assume he’s not, since his last relationship had lasted for several years, but what do I know?

He continued texting here and there, mostly making small talk, for a week or two, and I didn’t see the point of continuing with it. When I said I had given it a lot of thought and really didn’t think we were right for each other, he didn’t seem terribly upset. He said he’d like it if we could stay friends. Fine, whatever. Now run along and play, little Finchie. Mrs. Robinson is going to stick to boys her own age from now on.