I have a newfound appreciation for gold diggers.

I am obviously writing an update which means... drumroll please... I SURVIVED!!

That's right. Tonight, at approximately 8:32 pm, I met a 53-year-old for a date. He was born in 1957, the same year as my mother. He has two children, the oldest of which is five years younger than me, which is twelve shades of fucked up.

I told him all of this. We've been talking for months and in this time I've suggested he's too old for me, I could never be a stepmother, I think his daughters would disapprove, that most of his attraction for me is because I'm 30 years his junior... and despite all of my protests, he still asked me out. So, in accordance with my blog rules and against my better judgment, I went.

I can now say I have a newfound respect for those, whom popular culture has deemed "gold diggers."

Let's take a moment and look at the evolution of this relationship. Heff has been doing it for years, but the general consensus is that Bunnies have daddy issues and fewer brain cells than amoebae. However, recently it looks as though the older-man, younger-woman relationship has carved itself a place in the mainstream. Led Zepplin's guitarist dated a 14-year-old, Catherine Zeta Jones and Michael Douglas have been married for years despite a 25 year age gap, and - most importantly in my book - the characters Gloria and Jay from Modern Family have shown that age cannot contain love. Pop culture has been alternately fascinated by and disgusted with such unions, as these spreads from Marie Claire and People Magazine show.

But really, how could I possibly consider dating an older man? Honestly, it's self-explanatory once you know how dates with men my age have gone.

About two months ago, I decided to go on a date with Michael, a 23-year-old NYU student. He was studying to get his masters, also spoke German and Spanish, and had a good relationship with his parents and an appreciation for ice hockey. Perfect.

He also showed up to our date drunk, on purpose, so he could "have drunk munchies during dinner. They're the best." Strike one. He also happened to be making a sloppy ass of himself at my favorite bar in NYC. Strike two. Fun fact - I found out later the waitresses fondly nicknamed him McLovin, due to his unfortunate resemblance to Christopher Mintz-Plasse. 45 minutes into the most boring conversation I've had in my entire life, I couldn't take it a second longer. I bolted. I told him I had to help a friend move... at 9:00pm on a Saturday night.

I'm guessing he got the hint and quickly plotted his revenge. I flagged down our waitresses and got the check, and even offered up my credit card for half of the $75 bill (it's expensive german beer, what can I say.)

... and then waited.

... and waited.

... and waited some more. Fifteen minutes the check sat there, when I told him I had an emergency to get to. Finally I just gave the waitress the bill and paid. Including tax and tip, I paid damn near $90 on a first date and didn't even get a "thank you" for it. The best part? He still tried to kiss me and suggested we get tested for STDs so that he could "get it in" on the second date.

Welcome to my life.

I'm very comfortable with people older than I am; growing up I hung around my older siblings' friends, and for some reason adults always find me adorable. It's not hard to imagine that after a handful of bad dates like McLovin and a dash of amazing, flirtatious guys who are nevertheless attached to other girlfriends, I would look outside the (age)box.

I just got back from my date. We went to Nobu for dinner, where I had the best spicy tuna roll of my life. The $20 a glass wine put my best $20 bottle to shame. Who knew red wine could be so good? The girl at the liquor store once asked me if I was offended by wine that came by the liter. Offended? Fuckin' economical, given the way my friends drink. I was going to ask if they had something that came in a bag, but I guess a liter works too.

In addition to the usual first date questions, we talked about politics and investments, debated whether or not the Federal Reserve runs the country, and geeked out over our mutual love of international spy novels. It was a refreshing change. Well, it was... and then he referenced events that he had lived through and I had only read about in history books. In case you were wondering - yep, he was hot. Think George Clooney with a Long Island accent. I happen to think Long Island accents are the biggest turnoff in history, but then I stumbled upon one worse. I asked about his ex-wife.

I sat, mute yet content with my $20 wine, while he ranted for fifteen minutes about how all women are crazy. Let me preface this by saying that I agree. All women are nuts. I have no idea how men put up with it. If you, as a woman, are willing to recognize the crazy, embrace it, try to reason with it, and let go... it's tolerable. Hormones are unavoidable but you can find a way to tame them. So yeah, women are crazy. I agree. But I don't want it to spoil my incredibly delicious eel roll, a-thankyouverymuch. His divorce tale was mildly interesting and, not surprisingly, made him look like an all-American family man who tried to reason with a crazy wife and ended up losing out. I highly doubt that's the entire story.

Still, he insisted on giving me $40 for my cab ride home. The chivalry thing is not something I'm used to, as you can see from the following text message exchange:

Me: I'M ALIVVEEEE

Ashley: Yay! He didn't try to jump you?

Me: sort of. but he took me to a feast at Nobu and paid for a cab home, so I'm okay with it. Oh my lord, is this what gold diggers sound like?!?

Ashley: no, I believe gold diggers would have actually gone through with it and bedded the dude with no attraction

Me: Oh. Well he was cute for an old guy.. but still. Can't go through with it

Here's what it comes down to: I don't think there's much difference between gold diggers and prostitutes. Both are sleeping with people for money, but just in different contexts. And although he has all the positive, chivalrous qualities of someone with more experience, his baggage counteracts it.

Besides, for the money he spent on that dinner, do you have ANY IDEA how many dive bar beers and pool games that buys?!

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