OK. You’ve read about dating a 27 year-old (4 years isn’t really much of a difference) friend of my brother. How’s that going? Pretty good. He doesn’t want anything serious, since he’s fresh off a disastrous breakup. I seem to perpetually shy away from anything serious. But, how much younger can I go?
A few days ago, returning from a trip to the flooded airport, and unable to leave the airport (the flooding included the whole area around the airport), I asked a sweet-looking kid at an information booth to let me charge my phone. Nothing strange there, right? While my phone charged just enough to keep me communicated, the boy (seriously, a boy) straightened his tie, closed all the chat windows on his computer, and offered me a seat in the booth. I hesitated… Surely, I would be able to call home and figure out a way to get there soon (boy was I wrong, but more on that later).
He smiled; he thought that surely I was tired from my trip. I reminded him that I’d been sitting down during said trip. He asked me where I’d been. I answered.
“Is it nice?”
“Beautiful, too bad I was caught up in boardrooms most of the time.”
“Do you travel much?”
“Too much.”
“I’d love to travel, that’s why I studied tourism.” That’s when he decided to strike. “I just finished college, I graduated last month.” (He glowed when he said this, sure that his achievement would hook me.) “This is my first job, at city information booths, I’ve been here a few months, but this is the first time I was assigned to the airport.” Shit! So that’s why his suit looks so polished and he looks like he doesn’t belong in a suit (I’m pretty sure his mom bought it). He’s barely out of his teens! I mean, I knew he was pretty young, but that’s about a decade younger than me.
I smiled and tried to look unfazed that a kid that young was hitting on me. A call from his boss gave me time to regroup, and I decided that this innocent flirting with a kid was actually flattering. He hung up and told me the news, “It’s official, the airport’s closed because of the storm.” Considering the fact that my plane had landed in a puddle after 20 minutes of intense turbulence and lightning, this was not surprising.
“Well, at least my plane managed to land. I guess I’ll take a cab home, no need to have anyone else drive in this weather.”
He smiled at my perennial optimism. “It’s closed to traffic, too. No one can come in or out, the streets are flooded.”
That floored me. I was stuck at the airport, and all I wanted was to get home. On the other hand, there was the smiling kid on the other side of the counter. I called a friend (she’s been house- and cat-sitting). She told me the whole city was flooded, there was no way to get home. I hung up and let the phone finish charging. The airport already looked empty. No one had been able to get there in a few hours, and now, with no new planes landing, there were fewer people wandering the halls. Most of the stranded passengers were making arrangements at the airport hotels. I considered it. A bed is a bed, right? Then I decided to wait. The kid got another call from his boss, sending him home. Right! Home! As if he could get there. He closed up the booth for the night and tried for home:
“Since we’re both stranded here, how about some dinner. I hear there are some OK restaurants and bars here.”
I faltered. Dare I? One thing was flirting, but dinner… I told him I wasn’t hungry, but I could go for a drink. We walked over to one of the airport bars, and sat down. He told me about his plans to work at a hotel somewhere far away. We talked about the places we’ve been, and the places we want to go. His boss called his cell phone. An airport transport but would be taking employees out of the flood in an hour. He smiled, said I could go with him if I wanted to. I smiled, and used the exit I’d been given. No, I didn’t go with him, I was sure I’d be able to find a way home not that the rain had stopped. The flood had to subside at some point. We kept talking, and he left.
And now I wonder, does this kid have any idea how old I am? Do I look younger than I am, or is a thirty-something woman a cougar to a 21 year-old? In my favor, short, spiky, purple hair usually tricks men about my age (seriously, how many people travelling for business do you find in jeans and tank tops, with the aforementioned hairdo?). Do 21 year-old college grads look for women in their 30’s like 30 year-olds look for cougars?
Either way, I’m flattered.
Filed under: The Woman Perspective | Tagged: age, boys, date, drinks | 4 Comments »