"SUGAR DADDY" #2

So fucking typical of my life. Hooker site number one hated me (hate might be strong, but he thought me a whale), while date number two loved me too much. Can you love a person too much? Aren’t you supposed to be turned on and excited by the woman you want to pay for sex? Why is this so complicated? I truly am Goldicocks.

 

The date: I told him I was planning on going to the Long Beach Flea Market and I could meet him after. He said that would be great. I warned him that I wouldn’t be dressed up, but that I’d be cute. Straw fedora hat, jean shorts and a flowery top. He said he liked that even better, that he was a chill surfer type. I couldn’t remember his exact age, but I knew that he was younger than me. He didn’t know this little fact, since my ad says I’m thirty-five.

The day came and I felt good. First, I liked that he seemed easy going, and second, flea markets are my happy place. And the Long Beach location is my favorite one. I also felt good about the way I looked. I showered, shaved, applied makeup, wore big hoop earrings and put my hair in low, curly, ponytails and the hat. I felt like the real me. I headed down south.

 

I text him when I was finished like I said I would, and he said he’d meet me at the restaurant. Which, according to Yelp, was only eight minutes away. I touched up my face in the car, spritzed some of my work perfume and changed out of my Chuck’s. The place he said to meet was in an outdoor mall along the canals, I hate malls, but the place itself was pretty cool. I got there before him, so I grabbed a seat at the bar looking out onto the water and passing boats. The menu was Asian Hawaiian faire. The place reminded me of Hawaii, complete with a live reggae quartet. It had a good Sunday vibe. I was into it. I ordered a cocktail and did some speed in the bathroom.

 

He arrived and I was stunned. Not only was this guy noticeably young, he was good looking! It’s not that john’s are generally ugly, but they don’t tend to look like this guy. This man looked like he could get any woman in the bar.

 

He was tall, broad shouldered, thick, sandy blonde hair (ok, it was in a small ponytail…), and the most amazing green eyes I’ve seen in a long time. Granted, most of my life is conducted at night. He was really sweet and had nice energy. He was a scientist, fascinating research about food and the human body. The conversation was lively and fun. I got the impression that he was an introvert and shy, which is probably why he was on the site—he mentioned a little later that it was his friend’s idea. He travels a lot and is in the lab for long hours, sometimes weeks on end. He said it makes a normal relationship near impossible, but that he still had needs. Boom! Me too!

 

All systems seemed a go. We were engaged, laughing, flirting. I was wowing him with my big brain. He kept ordering more drinks for us, and I noticed that he had huge, beautiful hands. I’m a sucker for nice hands. At one point he took my legs and draped them over his. I was happy. This couldn’t have been a more opposite experience than with “The Monk”. I even spilled the beans about my age and he said that he liked that even better! His eyes lit up when I told him I was actually forty-four.

The bartender asked if we had been set up and I said yes, that it was a blind date, she was impressed and gave me the, “you go girl” look. Ha! If she only knew.

 

He kissed me at one point. It was pleasant. I felt I had hit the jackpot. But as our time was nearing an end (I did have to drive home, so I couldn’t drink my face off), talk of finances was the natural next step. My favorite. As before, I thought I had been pretty clear about my needs and what I was looking for in terms of an ongoing arrangement, but once I threw out some numbers, he visibly retreated. Motherfucker. Why? What is it about these men and the god damn money?! Are we not adults? Did you not read my messages? Did you think that site was for women looking for free drinks?

He scampered around the issue a bit, and said that ultimately he’d have to think about it. Groan.

 

He added that he really liked me and could see dating me for real. Ugh, gag me with a spoon. I hate hearing this when I’m on a work date. How much exactly should I dial down the amazing? Should I hawk up a loogie next time? When things are comfortable with a person, I don’t know how not to be anything other than myself. Sorry if I’m reasonably intelligent, fun and sexy. 

 

He asked for the check and I excused myself to pee. I did my classic eye-roll-to-self in the mirror as I washed my hands. Why can’t I find what I’m looking for? Where’s my perfect fucking porridge?! 

 

As I walked up to the bar, my not-right porridge slid into my lap (metaphorically) as I saw that he was splitting our hundred-dollar bill on two credit cards. I felt like crying. The bartender was now giving me the, “sorry honey” look. Once that was settled, we walked out to the parking lot together. 

 

The sun was starting to set and the sky was gorgeous. Once at my car, he started hugging on me and kissing me. And here is where I even confuse myself. I knew this was a lost cause. He clearly didn’t have enough money to afford me, and he was obvious in his apprehension of the financial arrangement. But I made out with him anyway. His dick was erect and big like his hands and I was buzzed. Plus, I wagered, maybe if he were this charged by me, he’d rethink his position on the money. 

 

He was going on and on about how incredible I was, and how turned on his was. He asked if I wanted to go back to his place. Sorry, love, no way in hell I’m fucking you without money being involved. I know I’m making out with you for free in a parking lot like a bad ho, but I haven’t lost all my senses. There was still a chance that he’d come around the next day when he missed me. I’d blow that chance completely if I slept with him. I wasn’t that desperate to get laid.

 

 I turned him down nicely and made my exit. He text later to say that he really respected me for not sleeping with him. Whatever, buddy, can you just get over yourself and pay me to suck your dick? But that was that. I only heard from him one other time, but he was just saying hello, not asking to make plans. Next on deck!!

 

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