To give you all an update, my Stage Five Clinger is still clinging. After several days without hearing from him, which was of course the desired result from our very matter-of-fact chat, he sent me a message over the weekend that said “Hey, thinking of you and thought I’d say hi.” I obviously completely ignored his text and and am crossing my fingers that he gets the hint. Besides, I have another prospect in my sights who happens to be far less creepy. Oh, and did I mention he’s also quite a bit younger?
Last week, I received an email from a publicist I’ll call Jack, interested in pursuing a partnership with my company and hoping to set up a meeting to discuss. A few days later, on a day where the weather can only appropriately be compared to Hell, I found myself heading into midtown Manhattan to meet with Jack and one of his colleagues. When I arrived at their office, I was dripping wet, and I’m pretty sure you could see my butt sweat though my black pencil skirt (don’t even act like this hasn’t happened to you). I cooled off in the lobby while the nice man at the front desk called Jack to let him know I arrived. Shortly after, he appeared in front of me. “Hi, I’m Jack,” he said holding out his hand to shake mine. As I reached my hand out to meet his, I looked up and saw a gloriously delicious-looking, semi-nerdy, yet sexy man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties. Shut the hell up, I thought. I hope I don’t smell.
Jack was very friendly and smiled a lot during our meeting, which was nice because he has a killer grin. Conversation was easy, and we each cracked a few jokes throughout our chat to lighten the mood. He had the perfect mix of dork and “do me”— kind of like when Clark Kent takes off his glasses and you know he’s about to become Superman. It was like that. Our meeting went well, but my thoughts remained anything but professional. I left that meeting an hour later knowing I wanted to see Jack again, even if it meant asking him out myself. I usually wait for others to make a move, but why shouldn’t I go after what I want, right?
To avoid looking like a crazy person, I waited until later in the day to send him an email.
“Hey Jack, it was a pleasure meeting you earlier! If you’re up to it, we should grab a coffee or a drink soon!”
The day went on and I heard nothing. During this time, I distracted myself from worrying that Jack wasn’t interested or was completely mortified by my offer by doing what I do best: online stalking. With the help of Google, I learned that Jack is four, maybe even five years younger than me and only graduated college in 2013. For those of you who can’t do math, that means he’s somewhere between the ages of 22 and (if I’m lucky) 24, and was still in high school a mere five years ago. [Okay, so it's not quite a Mrs. Robinson situation, but this post needed a photo! -- Amelia/Editor] I’ve dated men 10 years my senior, but never younger, for fear that they’re not serious about relationships and that they’re still in their Party ‘Til Dawn phase, which I can only do once in a blue moon if there’s nothing on Lifetime TV or my Kindle. For some reason, though, Jack seemed mature, worldly almost; he certainly didn’t seem like he’s in his early twenties, and I wasn’t going to let his age sway me from going out with him (unless I find out he’s a virgin, in which case, I’ve already swiped some V-cards in my day and would rather not go down that road again).
The next day at around lunch time, Jack finally responded. He wrote:
“Hey! So great to hear from you, and I’m sorry it took so long to respond. I wanted to make sure you had my full attention. It was a pleasure meeting you too, and I would love to get together soon! Next week is going to be busy with the Fourth of July and all, but let’s do dinner the following week if you’re up for it? — J”
Not only did I like the fact that he said I deserved his full attention, but the fact that my offer to go out was also upgraded from drinks to dinner seemed like a promising sign. On top of that, there’s something endearing about people who sign their names with just an initial. It added a personal and familiar touch that made me feel like our relationship was no longer strictly business. We exchanged our numbers and a few texts, during which he clarified that he was not at all creeped out by my proposition to go out, and was, in fact, very flattered. The weekend flew by, and to my surprise, I heard from him Monday morning.
“I know I said this week was busy, but what time do you get out of work on Wednesday? I’d love to get together if you’re free,” his text read. Cha-ching. Look who just landed a date for tonight!
I have no idea if we’ll be compatible, what his interests are or if Jack actually is mature for his age, but I look forward to finding out. And as one of my girlfriends told me, “There’s something to be said about dating younger guys, because there’s usually a little bit of worshiping involved … in a good way.” And to that, I say AMEN.