TILL THE GRAVE DOES US PART

I have heard about girls dating older men…I mean, really aged men; but I have never had a personal experience on the matter. Now hold your horses, refrain from your judgments…no, I am not the one dating a super senile guy, I am just trying to say that I have never interacted with anyone who likes them old. Speaking of judgments…am I being judgmental when I say that people should date people their own age, or at least a small age gap? What on earth would you find attractive in a 67 year old man? I know people have very bizarre fetishes, but surely...Old, rugged, droopy skin? Certainly not! What fulfillment would a 20 year old supple beautiful, well educated girl find in literally robbing the grave? Ops, forgive my ignorance. I forgot about the money. It’s all about the mulla right? After all, a girl must hustle and hustle hard.

What world have I been living in? I mean, I have seen the ‘Girls in the playboy mansion’ –a popular reality show on the E Channel, watched movies where ‘robbing the grave’  was the order of the day…but nothing had quite prepared me for the shock I received last Saturday. I met Sherry through Melisa whom we have been friends since high school. Sherry is one of those obviously beautiful women. She is always clad in well fitting, flimsy and motley clothes. Her hair is always in place and her feet are forever in six inch high stilettos. At her age, she is the most educated woman I know. At 23 years of age, Sherry is pursuing her doctorate in clinical psychology and has a very well paying job.

It is this background that sent me to the shock of my life when I learnt that Sherry was dating a 67 years old big bellied man. Melisa had invited me for her birthday party which she insisted we must bring a date. In the spirit of obeying the birthday girl, I forced my boyfriend suit up and join me for the evening occasion. The occasion was well attended by Melisa’s friends.Me being a melancholic sat in the corner with my boyfriend. After all, these were all Melisa’s friends whom I didn’t know. At around 8pm, Sherry strutted in a little black dress accompanied by a man who looked like her father, uncle or even grandfather. Happy to see a common face, I dashed to say ‘hi’ to her completely ignoring the man. No sooner had I finished hugging Sherry than she introduced me to her fiancé. The horror in my face betrayed me. Let’s just say Sherry has never spoken to  me again and I did not get an invite to her wedding.I have resigned my self to  getting updates from her Facebook and Instagram  accounts.I guess for her,it For better for worse,until the grave does them part.

Photo courtesy of   http://www.eligiblemagazine.com/