In the fall of 2015 I received a message from a gentleman whose profile stated he was 58, retired, single and his expectations were set to “high”. His private pictures showed a man with gentle eyes, a sweet smile and peppered hair. His profile was eloquent, charming, patterned with hints of his nurturing demeanor and inviting. After messaging back and forth for a week we decided it was time to meet in person. Little did I know, this was NOT going to be the man I was meeting.
I drove nearly an hour to meet him at a quaint Italian restaurant. I walked into an entirely empty restaurant save for the staff and one person, an elderly gentleman that looked to be in his late 70’s. “Surely this isn’t him,” I thought to myself as the man with grey hair slowly rose to his feet and yelled out my name with excitement and open arms. Taking a deep breath I smiled and gently hugged him before taking my seat. My guard was immediately up, because this man was not truthful about his age. He had definitely lied in his profile about being 58.
Giving Him A Chance
Conversation flowed naturally, he was tender and his eyes lit up when he heard me speaking about my passions and dreams. I began to forget that he had lied about his age as he grew on me more during our lunch. The restaurant began to slowly fill and we were seated at a table in the middle of the room. Voices of the other patrons were hushed as you could tell they were trying to figure out our dynamic. Perhaps I could pass as his granddaughter (ha).
As we discussed travel he brought up his wife. I learned he was still married – strike two, and the final strike as I don’t pursue married men (no shade to those that do, it’s just not for me). I didn’t care to make a dramatic exit so I decided to finish our lunch and remain the same cheery and bright-eyed girl I had been at the beginning of the date, and would discuss later why we wouldn’t have an arrangement.
Our meal had come to an end, the check had been brought and the room was fairly quiet aside from some muted chatter a few tables away. As I was getting ready to thank him for the lovely lunch and warm conversation he grasped my hand and loudly proclaimed, “so I’m a Dom and you’re going to be my Sub!”…the restaurant became silent.
“Perhaps this is a conversation better saved for later?” I said kindly while trying to discretely suggest that we were in the middle of a restaurant, everyone was listening and I wasn’t comfortable.
“We need to discuss your safe word! So should we head to the motel up the road? I was thinking an allowance of $300 would suffice,” he said. I reminded him that this was not the environment to have such conversations and that I wasn’t interested in going to a motel and then immediately dismissed myself to the restroom to die of laughter and embarrassment.
Upon returning I remained standing to signal that we were leaving. As he walked me to my car he kissed my cheek and I thanked him for the afternoon adventure. He sent me a text during my drive home asking if I would reconsider meeting him at the motel and will still send me messages from time to time. I’ve yet to ever respond.
While he was ultimately a harmless old soul, things could’ve gone much worse as this man was not being truthful about his identity; from his age, to his marital status. I now will only meet up with a POT after having FaceTimed with him. Be sure to thoroughly vet your candidates Babies!