Several years ago my BFF spent a night at the pub with other friends and – as
girls friends d0 – she was regaling me with stories of their escapades the following day.
There was an interstate cricket match on at the time, and as the pub in question is near the cricket grounds, some of the cricketers and hanger-oners were at the pub. My friend – it eventuated – had been chatted up by the coach or assistant coach or a trainer or similar.
Even though it was at least five years ago I still remember my reaction to her tale. Because I was gobsmacked.
NOT that someone chatted her up. And NOT that she briefly toyed with the idea of flirting back with an athlete or someone vaguely famous (I was always the one drawn to athletic types in our younger years!).
Rather… I was horrified that the perpetrator in question was a bloody coach and not one of the players.
It was a not-so-timely reminder that we were (in fact) in our mid-late 30s, an age at which most elite athletes have passed their peaks and become coaches or trainers or media personalities and the like (or bankrupt and living on unemployment benefits). I realised it should have been obvious to me that she / we were no longer going to attract virile and buff young hunks; rather retired has-beens who’ve been around the block a time or two.
A friend and I had a conversation about ‘men’ a couple of days ago, both commenting that we have trouble working out a man’s age. An issue which is more problematic as we get older. So, when perving… at bars, coffee shops or on public transport, I’ll often see a guy I think is attractive but then wonder if he could (in fact) be 15 years my junior. (Which is fine if you look like Demi Moore!)
On such occasions I look around at the greying or balding ‘older’ men and realise that THEY should be – in fact – my target market! It depresses me to see men my own age as so many of them look SO BLOODY OLD. (And surely I’m not THAT old and I don’t look like that!?!?! Surely.)
Argh! I mean, I’m hardly a spring chicken and I am far from a good catch. So… I’ve been panicking that my taste in the opposite sex, hasn’t quite caught up with my biological age! Perhaps I’m like those middle aged men still thinking I’m gonna pick-up some twenty-something college student. Although in reality, my reaction on seeing ‘older’ men is that they look too mature and grown-up for someone like me who really hasn’t got their shit together.
However… I was watching TV the other night – and as it’s summer and non-ratings season – options are limited. My Wednesday night TV-watching fodder has become the US show Grimm (obviously a modern day ‘take’ on Grimms’ fairytales). I’d heard about the show long before it appeared on our screens as an actor I find
sexy attractive is one of the lead characters and, as technology allows us to cyber-stalk celebrities, I’ve been following him on Twitter since seeing him on the ill-fated show, Caprica.
Sasha Roiz is (ahem) almost my age, tall and incredibly handsome. Finding myself attracted to him, I’m sure you’ll agree, is ridiculously easy and understandable.
However… the thing that occurred to me the other night is that – on the show, Grimm, he’s the boss. Shit! My natural reaction when realising this the other night was one of horror.
I mean, shouldn’t I be attracted to the young lead character for god’s sake?! NOT his Captain. Next thing you know I’ll be fantasising over the old boss in Law & Order SVU rather than the hunky young detectives.
But, I must confess, on the other hand, I liked the notion that I have in fact evolved enough as a person that – if I was to watch shows like Gossip Girl or the new Beverley Hills 90210, I’d be attracted to the fathers, not the 20 year old lead characters! I hope.
So… as I’m starting to feel my age and (ahem) maturity, I’ll take solace in that thought, rather than the reality that soon I’ll be checking out the grandfathers!
Do you sometimes find yourself perving at men/women significantly younger than is, well… realistic/appropriate?
Are you in denial that you are actually getting older?