It's not like you're 50...

So it's August in New Orleans and after a full shift on the pedicab I'm at Molly's at the Market in the French Quarter.  I'm lucky enough to be in the company of fellow pedicabbers Peyton and Nicole.

Peyton is an amazing young woman, 25, smart, beautiful, blonde, a laugh like little bells ringing,  and a 1000 mega watt smile. She is always happy, always interested and has an adorable habit of trilling her tongue behind her top front teeth.

Nicole is 22, a recent Tulane grad considering law school.  She's a yoga instructor and pedicabber with long dark hair, deep dark eyes and a powerful physical presence.  Nicole will do a handstand anywhere anytime and she is often smudged with bike grease and spotted with bruises and scrapes, of which she completely unaware.  Nicole doesn't take anything seriously, most of all herself.

Both these young women are incredibly bright and absolutely beautiful.  It is a joy to know them and a rare privilege to call them friends.

So there we are, at a comfy neighborhood bar in the Quarter, each of us posted up behind strong and tasty drinks well earned by the days work.  In the background was music and the hum of happy people talking.  I had the full and rapt attention of these sublime young women and I was making them laugh.  Heaven, it was absolute heaven.

Nicole gets up from the table and I linger a little on her as she walks away, Peyton catches me and I blush.  I come clean.


I say " I know, I know I'm like the creepy old guy at the freshman kegger"

"No", Peyton reassures me "It's not like you're 50"....

I realize quickly that she's not joking.  I don't hesitate because I'm all about platonic, even paternal admiration for these women. I speak up. 

"Well.....actually kiddo, IT'S EXACTLY like I'm 50."  I confess.

"No" she pops back in doubt "you're what, 36?"

"Try 49" I admit.  And there is silence.

Well what else could I say..."Yeah, it's not like I'm 50, right? 'cause that would be Creee pee, I'll tell you more about it in the windowless van out back.  Hey does this rag smell like chloroform?"

Of course I had to come clean.  I'm cool Uncle Skip not some sad old lech trying to run my tired game on these young women.  Maybe they've got a hot Aunt to set me up with... but 22 and 25?  I'm not that guy.

I admit that the laughter of ANY beautiful women is like heroin to me; But I count myself lucky that, physically at least, I've always been most attracted to age appropriate women.  I can even remember the exact moment that thinking of very young women in a sexual context became creepy.

Way back when I was pushing 40,  (Nicole and Peyton were in 6th and 8th grade respectively BTW)   I was leafing thru a Playboy in a throw back barber shop in Winchester, VA.  Dutifully admiring the airbrushed, impossibly pneumatic, blonde centerfold when I noticed among her enumerated stats....her date of birth.  It was TWO YEARS AFTER I graduated from High School.  The feeling was visceral, it felt wrong.   That was the day I put those thoughts out of my mind.  

That's not to say I don't appreciate youth and beauty, I do.  I just don't pursue casual congress with women half my age.  Or LESS than half.

Oh and bonus: I have also found that women my age have been beaten down by life and as such, the hotness to maintenance quotient is tipped in my favor.   Ex-wife #3 was a top ten finalist for Miss Mississippi.  I couldn't have gotten the time of day 20 years ago, but present day.... all it took was a kind word and a foot rub.  But I digress.

Back to Molly's and happy hour with Nicole and Peyton.  Nicole returns, I get us a fresh round and catch her up on the conversation.

"It's not like you're 50...." I quote....  and pause for reaction

"You're 50?" says Nicole in an mildly surprised tone

"Well... 49..." I, now less enthusiastically, confirm

"Oh" 

"Well 50's the new 30" I assert lamely in an exaggerated old man voice and go back into full funny mode.  The awkward beat forgotten and the laughter of beautiful women is heard again.

The moral of the story?  If a beautiful, smart, young woman thinks your middle aged ass is 15 years younger than it is.... keep your fuckin mouth shut!

Here endeth the lesson.

How they see me

How I see me

How I really am