A few days ago, I received a Facebook friend request from a young, highly attractive guy who looked to be about 28 years old.
Naturally, I was curious. I wanted to know why on earth someone that young wanted to be friends with me, so I went ahead and accepted it.
Almost immediately, he started sending me private messages. He was incredibly sweet, calling me “beautiful” and turning on the charm. Eventually, he asked for my age. Since I’m not a liar, I told him the truth and reminded him that I was quite a bit his senior. Still, I let him keep talking because—let’s be honest—a little flattery never hurt anybody!
We kept chatting for a while, and it didn’t take long before he decided to push his luck. He sent a message asking if we could talk about “adult things.”
I figured, why not? I said okay.
He replied with a suggestive emoji and wrote: “Thank you babe, you start.”
So I did! I dove right into the real-life, hard-hitting adult things:
How my knees and hips ache terribly whenever the weather changes.
How my lower back completely acts up the moment it gets cold outside.
My absolute nightmare with chronic insomnia and how I toss and turn all night.
The agonizing leg cramps that wake me up screaming out of a dead sleep.
The collection of scars from my multiple surgeries and the permanent limp I have from an old injury.
And, of course, I just had to throw in my daily requirement of high-fiber supplements to prevent sudden, uncontrollable passing of gas.
Can’t forget that one!
I sat back, feeling pretty good about our mature conversation, and waited for his reply…
Poof. He blocked me.
Honestly, these young guys say they want to talk about “adult things,” but the second you bring the real heat, they can’t handle it! I guess I was just too much woman for him.
