Nast. I just got a phone call at my work from an old dude that I generously, drunkenly shared a cab with the other night (no worries, there were 4 of us, we were safe).
When I say old dude, I'm talking seventies.
Anyhoo-- he asked me to go to a "nightclub opening" this Saturday -- adding "you know, the one we talked about." No, sir, I was five glasses of wine & champagne deep. I do not recall this nightclub.
Confused and slightly incredulous, I was able to politely decline, citing a birthday party and a Halloween party this Saturday. So he says, "well, then I'd like to take you for a drink after work next week."
At this point, it's dawning on me that this is no veiled job offer, no attempt at a pseudo grandfather-granddaughter relationship, but a bona fide DATE from a MAN IN HIS SEVENTIES. Gross!!
First of all, what dude with a "new hip" (as he told me on the phone) is shaking his thang at nighclubs with gals less than half his age?
I'll tell you. A known May-December relationship dude who apparently likes the younger flesh. And, I hear, he is a drug supplier.
Time to go vom. Then play with My Little Ponies.
4 comments:
hi blog is very beatifull.good bye
um- who is that who wrote that bizarre comment. Beanorama- how did creepy old man get your phone number????
Innocent Bean has neglected to mention that she handed the old man her business card specifically to discuss said nightclub. She also gabbed the entire cab ride. I should know - I was sandwiched between the two Q-tips while she comfortably sat up front. I also had to hold Prince Charming's cane while he spent four minutes trying to get into the car.
bean is busted!
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