Or maybe not...
I went with two new friends to a burlesque show and had a few drinks, so when the suave older guy I'd met earlier on that breakfast date texted me his address, I thought to myself, "PERFECT!" After all, what better way to get over someone and move on then a good old fashioned SHAG.
OR MAYBE NOT.
I picked up a bottle of wine and a burger at Buns, hopped in a cab and was on my way across town to his swanky abode. Though he neglected to advise me that his road was under construction, so I had to jump out of the cab and hoof it IN HEELS through a construction zone.
I arrived there to him answering the door in a ratty gray terry cloth robe. He refused to drink wine and was downing rum straight up. He showed me his pumpkin art made out of old postage stamps. He also divulged that he had lied about his age. Then he tried to get me to touch him repeatedly. No seduction AT ALL.
He actually grabbed my hand and put it down there. Commando under the robe. UGH. And it was FLACCID. Seriously guy, how is THAT supposed to turn me on?
I totally ran out, mumbling that I'd take a rain check, jumped the bus home (was NOT worth more wasted cab fare) and made it home, almost unscathed.
Lesson learnt: older men who are single are single for a reason.