Lost at 52

I am a 52 year old, unemployed loser.  I just realized that today.  I have been applying for jobs that will never pay more than 15 bucks an hour.  I’m 52.  I should be making twice that amount.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m smart.  And I’m hirable. I’ve had several jobs since August, including being a rural route driver for the Post Office, which is a tough job to get.  I lasted 3 days.  Driving on the right had side of the road down a busy highway proved to be too much for me. It’s impossible to drive safely while you sit in the passenger seat with your left leg spread across the seat to work the gas and break.  I can’t believe the Post Office expects that of its’ employees. I pictured myself dying in a horrible accident with blood stained mail spread out across the highway.  It’s a terrible job with time pressure and the promise that you will tear up your own vehicle during the process.  My second day on the job I had a blow out.  My first day in training I puked my guts out while I rode in the backseat of a postman’s personal truck.  He drove like a bat out of hell, sitting on the right passenger seat with mail piled to the roof in the driver’s seat.  He didn’t stop to let me vomit.  He cared more about getting the mail delivered on time than he did about the woman who was projectile vomiting in his truck. It just wasn’t worth it to  me.  I walked away and never looked back.

I’ve also worked at the front desk of a hotel, driven a limo, been a file clerk and a receptionist at a doctor’s office.  All of which I quit due to one frustration or another.  I don’t know what is wrong with me.  I can’t seem to find a good fit.  I loved driving a limo, but my boss was too intense.  He expected me to be on call 24 hours a day, ready to go, even though he wasn’t paying me to be on call.  I couldn’t plan anything with my family or friends.  If I did, he would yell at me and give me a guilt trip.  Plus I was only averaging about $250.00 a week, which isn’t enough to support me and my son.

I’ve gone through all of this because I quit a job in August.   It was a good, noble job.  I was a Unit Clerk in the NICU at an inner city hospital.  I loved everything about my job.  I was good at it.  I treated the parents of the newborns like family.  Whenever a baby is in the NICU, you get to know the parents and family members well.  You see them all day and night.  The good ones, anyway.  Some parents never bother to visit the baby, but most of them are very involved with their baby’s care.  A few of our sicker babies could stay in the hospital upwards to a year.  We grew to love and care about the babies and their parents.

I never should have quit my job.  There were so many reasons involved in my leaving.  My charge nurse was a full on sociopath.  She was mean and vindictive, but smiled and laughed the whole time she was stabbing you in the back.  She made my life miserable.  Not just my life, but the nurses’ lives too.  The only time she was genuinely kind to someone was if a parent lost a child.  She had a clique of nurses who were on a wild streak.  They were cheating on their husbands and bragging about it at work.  It was annoying.  I was a captive audience because I couldn’t leave my desk.  They gossiped and mocked the other nurses.   I grew to despise them.  I tried to tune them out, but there was no use.

The main reason why I left my job was because there was a baby there that was haunting me.  Well, I should say a baby and his mother were haunting me.  This poor baby had no chance at any kind of normal life.  It was born with hydranecephaly, which means it had no brain but it had a brain stem so it could feel pain.  His little brain was filled with water and it grew 6 centimeters a day.  He was in horrible pain.  No matter how many pain meds they gave him, he would squirm in pain.

His lovely mother was a drug addict.  He was her 8th baby.  The first 7 are in foster care due to her drug use.   The day her baby was delivered she was told that he had no brain.  He did have a brain stem, so he could feel pain.  She was also told that the humane thing to do would be to deny all nourishment to the baby so that he could die peacefully.  She agreed.  The doctors and nurses started the process of letting the baby go.

In the meantime, the mom was sitting in the waiting room.  Several other moms were sitting in the waiting room chatting.  Evidently they started talking about all of the services that are provided to NICU moms in need.  One of the perks is that if you sign in everyday you can get travel funds from a certain charity in town.  This money is supposed to be used for gas to travel back and forth to the hospital.  Forty dollars a day.  Free money.  For drugs.  By some miracle this mother changed her mind and wanted the hospital to take full measures to save her baby’s life.  This woman decided that it was more beneficial to her to let her baby live and suffer in horrible pain than it was to let her baby die peacefully.  She signed in everyday, walked to the back, glanced at the baby, left and headed straight to the charity to get her money.  According to the nurses, she never touched the baby, talked to the baby or held the baby.  The receptionist at the charity would call me everyday when the mother arrived there to verify that she had been in to visit.  I had to say that she had signed in.  I couldn’t volunteer the information that she didn’t stay longer than three minutes.  It drove me crazy.  I started having nightmares and anxiety attacks.  I couldn’t stand the thought of this poor baby laying in that bed, suffering.  I cried on the way to work and I cried on the drive home.  I was miserable.

At the end of my shift everyday, I would go visit the baby.  He would be squirming and wincing in pain.  I rubbed his feet.  The second I touched his tiny little feet he calmed down.  All he needed was to be touched and loved.  His head grew so large that it touched the sides of his crib.  He should have been let go the first week of his life.  We were in to the third month of his pathetic life.  Three months of suffering for a sweet innocent baby.  I told one of the neonatologist that I thought it was ethically wrong for them to keep him alive.  He agreed.  On the day that I quit the baby was still alive.  Three months later my daughter had a baby.  I ran into one of the doctors and asked him about the baby.  He said that the baby was still alive, but was in hospice care.  I’m sure the mom is continuing to collect her 40 bucks a day.  It breaks my heart to think about what that poor baby is going through.  I hope and pray he passes soon.  And I hope there’s a special place in hell for women like his mom.

Now I sit, endlessly applying for jobs.  I’m not sure if I’ll ever find a good fit again.  The longer it takes me to find a job the more suspicious interviewers are.  I haven’t put the latest jobs that I’ve had on my resume.  That would make me look worse than I already do.  I’m getting to the point that I feel useless.  I’m only 52.  I have so much more to offer to this world, but at this point I feel hopeless.

I should have gone to school.  I should have believed in myself.  Now I just exist.  I can’t imagine living to be old and struggling financially for the rest of my life.  I apply for jobs that I have absolutely no interest in.  I need something that will pay my bills and that isn’t too mind numbing.  I’m not sure if that job exists. Here’s hoping one does and that I find it soon.


The Life of Meagan (a screenplay)


MEAGAN, 30ish yuppy, sits uncomfortably in an overstuffed
chair. At a desk across from her sits DR. BARNARD, 50ish,
short and bearded.

What do you do when he approaches
you for sex?

Nothing. I just lay there.

You don’t respond?


Dr Barnard
Why not?

I guess I just don’t want to be
disappointed again.

I see.

I don’t know. When we do talk about
sex all I see is him sitting there
naked with this limp dick. Just
laying there on his lap. And he’s
just yapping and yapping about how
we need to just do it. Just do it!
But how can we do it when he loses
his erection 30 seconds after we

Dr. Barnard sits back in his chair and puts his hands behind
his head. He studies Meagan for a minute.

I guess I feel like he conned me.
When we first got together sex was
great and now it’s pathetic.

Have you tried oral sex?

Yes. But I’ve been emotionally
turned off for so long that even
oral sex does nothing for me.

It could be a simple case of low
testosterone levels. Have you had
any bloodwork done?

No. I know it’s not MY testosterone.
It’s HIS. If he hadn’t’ve started
losing his erection I never
would’ve lost my sex drive.

Has he tried Viagra?

Yes. He had a good erection, but he
was so busy looking for every sign
of change in his body he couldn’t
perform. I think sex lasted MAYBE 3
minutes that time. Right when I
started feeling it, he came.

The first time using Viagra can be
a little dramatic. The gentleman
gets flushed…

I know. I know. He gets flushed and
he feels all hot. That happened to
(sitting forward in
her chair)
I just want to know what happened
to good old fuckin’? I want to be
fucked, you know? I want to be
nailed hard. I want to be sore the
next day. I want to KNOW I had sex!

The TIMER goes off. Dr. Barnard stops the BUZZING and grimaces.

I hate to say it, but that’s it for

So, that’s it? I have to leave.

Meagan, just do this. Whenever he
approaches you for sex, just
picture him with a huge erection.

Yeah, right. What will that do?

It may help you become aroused. If
you’re aroused, then maybe he’ll be
more aroused.

It’s not going to work.

Try it. I’ll see you this time next



TODD, early 40’s, athletic type sits at the foot of the
bed,wearing boxer shorts and clipping his toenails. Meagan
lays on the bed, reading a magazine.

Todd blows a nail out of the clipper, stands and places the
clippers on the dresser. He crawls onto the bed, acting like
a tiger. He GROWLS.

Hey, little girl. I’m hungry!

Meagan lowers her magazine, gives him a look of boredom and
continues to read.
(pulling the covers
from around Meagan)
I’m gonna eat you!

Meagan pulls the covers back up and looks at Todd.
Suddenly Todd becomes a huge limp PENIS pulling on her
blankets. Meagan winces.

Stop it Todd! I’m not in the mood.

The penis sits up, still very limp and crosses his arms.

You’re never in the mood.

I wonder why.

Do you really find me that repulsive?

Meagan closes her eyes and tries to picture an erect penis.
She opens her eyes and still sees the limp penis.

No. I don’t find you repulsive.

Well, what’s the problem then?

My psychologist thinks I may have a
low testosterone level.

You? Women don’t have testosterone.

Yes we do.

The penis crawls over and lays next to Meagan. He lays on
his side and caresses Meagan.

I want you.

Meagan pushes him away. The penis shrinks a little as he
moves away from her.

That’s really a turn off when you
push me away.

How can you tell when you’re turned
off or on?



Meagan places the magazine on her nightstand and rolls over,
facing the wall.

What did you mean by that?

I just don’t understand how you can
tell when you’re turned off or on.
You never seem to be very hard.

(shrinking even more)
That’s mean.

Let’s just go to sleep. You can go
with me to my next counselling

The penis scoots down under the covers and turns off the light.


Todd and Meagan sit in chairs across from Dr. Barnard.
Dr. Barnard sits with his hands clasped in front of him and
observes Todd and Megan.

So, Todd. Meagan has expressed
concern in regards to your sex life.


Can you elaborate?

Well. She wants everthing to be
perfect. She won’t let me touch her
if she hasn’t had a shower.

Well, that’s gross. Women can
smell, you know.

Let him talk, Meagan.

(to Dr. Barnard)
Thanks, Doc. And she doesn’t want
to do it if the kids are around.
They have to be asleep. Whenever I
rub on her and try to have sex with
her she just lays there like she
can’t feel anything. Finally I just
give up and go to sleep.

Why do you think she rolls over?

I don’t know. She says she has no
sex drive. I keep telling her that
if we just do it, her libido will
eventually kick back in and we’ll
be fine.

How was your sex life when you were
first married?

Great. Awesome. She used to
ejaculate all over my face…


Well, you did.
(to the doctor)
She did. I used to think I would
drown in her cum. If she would just
do it more often she could come
like that again. But no….

Meagan grimaces as Todd turns into a giant, limp penis. She
closes her eyes and then opens them hoping he will be Todd
again, but he’s still the penis.

If we just do it anytime, whether
she’s clean or not, or whether the
kids are awake or not, we’ll get
back into the swing of things and
we’ll be normal again.

Meagan? How do you feel about what
Todd has to say?

Meagan stares at Todd (the penis) and does not respond to Dr.

Uh, what did you say?

How do you feel about what Todd says?

I think that he’s full of shit.

See Doc! She has no respect for me.

How can I respect a limp penis?

Limp penis?!

Look at you. You’re nothing but a
shriveled up, pathetic penis!

Me? What about you? You’re nothing
but a dried up old cunt!

Stop it! Right now! You two need to
take a few minutes and look at

The penis and Meagan calm down. Meagan looks over at Todd
who has shriveled down to two balls with a little nub of a
penis. She looks away quickly.

Meagan. What do you think we need
to do in order to fix this problem?

I think I need to just become a
lesbian. I don’t think I want dick

Very funny.

I’m not being funny. I’m serious. I
think I’m all penised out. I really
think I need to just quit being
with men altogether.

I think it takes a little more than
just deciding to be gay, Meagan.

No. It doesn’t. I’ve decided.
(turning to Todd/penis)
I’m leaving you. I want a divorce.

You’re kidding, right? Doc? She
can’t do this.

Meagan stands, bends to kiss Todd, realizes he’s still a
penis, and pulls away.

I’m serious. I don’t want this
anymore. Doc, thanks for your help.
I’ll give you a call in a few
months to let you know how I’m doing.

Meagan leaves the office. Todd, back to his normal self,
sits across from the doctor.

I can’t beleive she’d rather be
with women than with me! All she
had to do was have sex with me
whenever I wanted it.

She’ll be back, Todd. Just give her


Meagan, new butch haircut, sits across from the doctor. Next
to her sits CLEO, beautiful, butch black woman.

So, Cleo. Meagan expresses concern
about your sex life. Can you

I don’t understand that, doctor. I
always want to have sex with
Meagan, but she pushes me away.

Have you talked to each other about
what the problem is?

Meagan looks over at Cleo, who has now turned into a green
and white-splotched gigantic TONGUE.

Giving a Guy a Second Chance Just Might be Worth It Sometime

I have an update.   Jason, the beautiful runner with the huge cock who was a little wonky the first time I was with him called me again.  Well, I say called.  He sent me a text that said “Come fuck me.” Some guys don’t waste their time with sweet nothings.  I agreed to go over to his place in the middle of the day.  It was my birthday week, so I thought “What the hell.  MIght as well.”  He’s cute.  He has the most beautiful smile and blue eyes.  And I’ve already written about his beautiful body.  Hard to resist being near something that gorgeous. There’s not an ounce of fat on him. He has the most amazing legs and abs. I had to see him again, even if the sex was going to be lacking.  The first time we were together it was like fucking a 17 year old boy.  Frantic and furious.   I wanted to see if he would be better the second time around.  To my great surprise he was!

Whenever I got to his house, we sat on the couch for a little while and watched “Breaking Bad”, which is my all time favorite show.  If it’s on, I’m gonna stop to watch no matter what is going on. I figured at the very least I’ll get to watch good t.v.  After a few minutes of watching, he looked at me, looked down at his crotch and smiled. He had a raging hard on.  He told me to take my clothes off, which I did.  I straddled him, and he told me to do whatever I needed to do in order to be satisfied.  I took my time and rode him nice and slow, feeling every inch of him.  I say every inch, but really it was probably half of what he has.  It was hot.  I came a couple of times.  He actually paid attention to my breasts this time, which felt so nice.  That’s one of my favorite things about sex.  Turns me on to no end.

Sex with Jason this time around felt like grown up sex.  No hard core fucking, just pleasure. At one point he asked me to lay back on the couch.  He entered me, but couldn’t go in very far.  He kept saying “let me in”. I didn’t know what he meant by that.  I thought I was.  I was open and legs spread as far as I could. I would position my hips to try to help him, but nothing would help it go in deeper.  Poor guy.  He’s so big.  I can imagine it’s hard for him to find many women who can take it all. I’ve realized that my vagina isn’t very deep.  I haven’t really been with guys who are huge until Stephen and Jason, so I never knew that I was on the smaller end of the scale as far as vaginas go.  I’m built for an average sized dude, I guess.  We finished off with me going down on him.   We both were exhausted and satisfied.

I left right afterward because I had a birthday dinner that evening.   He looked disappointed when I told him that I had to go.  It’s funny to think that when he wanted to shoo me out the door, it was okay, but when I needed to leave right away, he was disappointed.  It works both ways.  Men can feel a bit used too, I guess.

The second time around was so much better than the first time.  I’m glad I agreed to go over to his place.   It was lovely.  The old me would have written him off as a lousy lay and wouldn’t have given him a second chance.  I’m happy to say it’s not a waste of a beautiful body after all.

A Picture of A Penis May Not Be Worth A Thousand Words

Still on Tinder. Young, beautiful, athletic guys contact me daily. They start out by telling me that I’m hot and they are attracted to older women. After a few lines of chatting and getting to know each other they ask for my number so that we can text back and forth. Inevitably, after a bit of small talk we come to the dirty talk. I don’t mind talking dirty. Sometimes it’s creative and fun. I like the thought that I can turn a guy on with just my words. I like the thought of them getting hard while I say the things that I would never say to them if I had met them in a regular situation. It’s fun and it excites me to know that there is a beautiful man on the other end getting hard while thinking of me. I can spend hours flirting and talking dirty to the right guy. It makes me happy. I feel sexy and alive. The right guy can make it fun and sexy if he knows what he’s doing.

But some guys don’t get the concept of flirting and texting. They think that flirting is sending dirty pictures back and forth. They are clueless. It drives me nuts when they ask me for my number and the first thing that shows up on my phone from them is a picture of their penis. It disgusts me every time. I don’t get what makes a guy think that’s okay. One guy sent me a video of himself jacking off. No hello. No how are you. Just a video of himself masterbating. He was well built, gorgeous and sexy, but that video completely turned me off. I blocked his number. Just not cool.

Men, listen to this. Women don’t want to see pictures of your junk. Especially when we’re first getting to know you. It’s shocking to open a text that has a picture of a giant penis staring back you. I never expect that. Give a girl fair warning that you’re going to send a nude pic. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been sent a picture of a penis that I find repulsive and have been totally turned off by the guy afterward. Maybe if we were alone, in the dark and he entered me and it felt good I would be able to get over the fact that it’s curved or just plain ugly. There have been several guys that I was interested in, but once they sent the picture of their penis I became uninterested very quickly just because of how it looked. One guy’s was so hairy that you could barely see his penis. Another guy’s was curved and just plain weird looking. The head was gigantic and the stem (I guess that’s what you would call it) was skinny and scrawny. Another guy’s penis was beat red, like a dog’s. Gross. Nobody needs a picture of that. EVER.

I’m telling you, guys, don’t send pics of your penis unless it is beautiful, normally shaped and the hair is trimmed around it. AND YOU HAVE PERMISSION TO SEND IT! No matter what you may think, women don’t need to see your hard-on in order to be turned on by you. We need words. We need kisses. We need humor and lust. The unknown can be sexy. Seeing for ourselves is sexier to us than being shown everything before we’ve even met you in person.

I know men are visual and need to see the female body. I get that. And don’t get me wrong, I think men’s bodies are beautiful; your abs, you ass, your strong legs, your arms; even your penis. There’s nothing more beautiful than an erection that is there just for me. Just let me see it up close and personal. Let me feel it and taste it. Let me feel it’s strength as it moves inside of me, just don’t send me a picture of it until I’ve seen the beauty of it in person. I promise you’re chances of getting laid will be much higher.

What a waste of a beautiful body

I finally had my first one night stand with a Tinder guy. I did take myself off of Tinder, but I’ve been texting a couple of guys in the meantime. The young man that I met, we’ll call him Jason, was a bald cutie with huge dimples. His pictures on Tinder were of him running track and doing athletic stuff. He didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. Big smile, nice body and his texts were funny.

He was a persistent little shit. Texted me out of the blue a lot asking me to come over. He acted like we had known each other for ages. He seemed very comfortable with the notion of us hooking up. After a couple of weeks I thought “What the hell. Might as well. It might be fun.” I was nervous as I drove to his house. Told myself that if I wasn’t attracted to him, I’d just leave. I had trouble finding his place. Took me a lot longer to get there than it should have, mainly because of nerves. Had visions of being tied up with duct tape on my mouth, laying on a giant piece of plastic.

When I finally knocked on his door, I was so nervous I was almost blind. I just gave him a quick hug, barged in to his house and started blabbing like an idiot. Jason lived in a cute older house that had been converted in to apartments. He said that he had just moved in with a roommate. The apartment was pretty bare except for a living room set, big tv and his bedroom furniture. Plenty of room to kill an innocent woman on a giant piece of plastic.

He was sitting in the dark, watching “I am Legend”. Nothing sexier than a zombie movie. I sat on the couch with him. He was very cute. Kind of looked like a bald Joseph Gordon Levitt. He talked and chatted and made me feel comfortable right away. He said that he was a salesman for a local computer company. Evidently he had just come out of a long engagement. He’s just trying to get his groove back, just like I am.

We talked and chatted until he got a text. Then all of a sudden he decided it was time to have sex. He kissed me and then proceeded to take my clothes off. It was fast and frantic and very unsexy. He wanted me to sit on top of him first, but I couldn’t feel a good rhythm. It was weird and too forced. He was well hung, so it didn’t have anything to do with size. There’s nothing worse than a man with a beautiful, giant cock that has no clue how to use it. Since that wasn’t working he decided to do it from behind, so I leaned against the couch; more frantic fucking. Not sexy at all. Right in the middle of it, his phone went off and he stopped to look at his text. Really!?!?!?!? Then he wanted to go into his bedroom. I asked him if that was where the plastic was spread out so that he could kill me. He said I was funny. At that point I was kind of hoping that was the case. It would have been more exciting than the sex we were having. Once we were on his bed, sex wasn’t any better. I felt like I was fucking an 18 year old boy. No rhythm, no real lust or passion, just fucking. He didn’t even try to explore by body or try to make me feel good. He pounded away at me without caring if I felt good or not.

After he came we talked and chatted for a little while longer and then I left. I didn’t feel one bit satisfied. Just used. I guess that’s what I get for hooking up with strangers. He asked me if I wanted to come back over on Thursday. I told him yes, but I have no intention of going back. I don’t think there’s any hope of it being any better.

The next day he texted me and asked how he was. He told me to be honest. I told him he was lovely and that sex was great. In other words, I lied through my teeth. I should have told him that he has no clue how to make love to a woman. He had no rhythm. He had no sense of what it means to be inside of a woman and FEEL her. He should have touched me, explored my curves and paid attention to my breasts. I can cum just from someone sucking and biting my nipples. I should have told him that you don’t have to fuck hard in order to make a woman cum. Sometimes nice and slow makes me cum more than hard and furious. Exploration is key. Explore every nook and cranny. Learn my body and what makes it tick. I know it was our first night together. I’m sure he was just as nervous as I was, but it could have been much better. It should have been lusty and sweaty and hot. Instead it was cold and boring. I shouldn’t have lied to him. He’ll never make a woman happy if he’s never told the truth.

I wish I could teach him that it’s all in the way you make the woman feel. A man needs to make a woman feel like being inside of her is the one place on earth that he wants to be. He needs to convince her that her pussy is the one pussy in the world that his dick has been searching for. He needs to make her feel like he never wants to leave and that being inside of her makes him happier than anything else on earth. He should make her feel like Her kisses are the only ones he craves. A woman needs to know that having sex with her is all he cares about at that moment. No phone calls,text messages, sports show or movie is more important than being with her and inside of her. (Turn off your fucking phone, guys! Especially when you’re getting laid!) He should make her feel that she’s all that matters. If he can convince her of that, she’s all his. Even if it’s a lie and he knows it’s going to be a one night stand, he should leave her trembling, breathless and wanting more.

My last longterm lover spent hours and hours making love to me. I’ve never been with a man who could last as long or who was as good as he was. He felt every stroke, every breath, every quiver. He knew my body better than I did. We made love all night long and then woke up and made love again. He’d come home from work just so that we could have a quickie. He couldn’t get enough of me. He told me that I was beautiful and he couldn’t resist me. I’ll probably never find a lover like him again. Maybe I shouldn’t hold a stranger up to his standard. That’s probably not fair.

I thought about calling Jason and telling him the truth; offering to teach him, but I’m not sure if he’ll understand what I”m trying to say. He’s 27. I’m not sure if he’s old enough to comprehend what real love making is or if he’s too old to learn new tricks. Maybe some day it will click for him. I hope it does. He’s too fucking handsome and hung for it to go to waste.

I’m learning so much about how “hooking up” works. I’m not sure how I feel about it. I want to have sex, but I want it to be worth my while. Hopefully someday soon I’ll find a good partner. I want to be courted. I want a man to pursue me. I want the anticipation and lust that I felt when I was young and dating. Not sure how to go about finding that again and I’m not going to go without until I do. So I’m going to keep plugging away for now. I used to say I’d rather have no sex than lousy sex, but at this stage of my life I’d rather have lousy sex than no sex. Oh my gosh! I think I’m turning in to a guy!

The one thing I do know is that I’m happier as a single gal than I was as a married gal. I’d rather kiss a few young, inexperienced toads than lay in bed with an old one who has no interest in me (and wears dresses behind my back).

Done rambling for now. Just got a text from my other Tinder buddy. Wish me luck!

A Fool and her Booty are Soon Parted (Plus my first Tinder date!)

I have to say that for a 50 year old I’m kind of stupid.  I figured out how to take the famous Kim K booty shot.  I pointed my phone towards the mirror and took a couple of shots.  One of the things that I learned is there is a reason why Miss K parts her legs a little bit.  Your booty looks better for some reason.  I took a simple picture of me in some pink cotton panties.  My room is a little messy in the background, but it’s an okay shot. I made sure to keep the thigh cellulite out of the shot, of course; another trick of Kim’s.

We’ll call my little panty-loving match “Luke”.  I had texted him back and forth a couple of times, so I sent him the picture.  The very second that I did, I realized that I had never put his contact in my phone.  I had just sent my booty shot to my son’s best friend who just happens to be named Luke.  Oh my God!  I panicked.  I sat by the phone and waited for a response.   I told myself that Luke is a good kid.  I’m sure he’s in shock that his  “second mom” just sent a panty shot of herself.  I’m sure I scarred him for life!  That’s my karma.  That’s what I get for being such a sleazy, slutty person.  He’s going to tell my son.  My kids are going to freak out and send me to some sexaholic clinic.  I’m going to be labeled as a cougar.  An old biddy that hits on innocent young guys.  I’m so stupid.

I waited.  No response. I didn’t hear back from Luke.  Not a word.  For a full day and a half.  Then yesterday he sent me a weird text.  “Do you happen to be blessed with the presence of your son with a name almost as beautiful as thee?”  Normally he would say, “Hey, is Mark home?”  so I know he got the photo.  I’m so embarrassed. I don’t think I can ever face that kid again.  His second mom has abandoned him for life.

So, instead of the butt photo I sent the other Luke a shot of my legs.  He said he was a leg man.  He responded right away and said my legs were “wow”.  I’m not good at this.  I want to be sexy, but I don’t think you have to take sexy photos of yourself in order to be sexy.  I know men are visual.  I know they need to see the female body, but there are millions of photos of butts and thighs all over the internet.  They can look at those and wait to see mine in person.

Now let’s get to the good stuff.  I finally went out on a date!  Yay.  Progress, indeed. I went out with a beautiful 29 year old  man that I’ll call “Steve”.  His photos were nice.  Not one shot of him standing next to a dead animal or sucking on a beer keg, which is always a plus.  There was a shot of him onstage, so I knew we had the whole entertainment thing in common.  I figured at the very least we would have film and movies to talk about.

When he called me I heard the soft West Texas drawl that I’m so familiar with.  I had no idea he was from Lubbock until we talked later that night.  His voice and accent made me feel comfortable right away.

We met at Lucille’s on Raney Street.  I had never been to Lucille’s or to Raney Street, so I was happy that I was going to get to experience a new part of town.  Raney Street was jumping;  several blocks of bars and restaurants that are in old houses.  When I parked and saw him standing there, my heart skipped a beat.  This guy was way too beautiful for me.  Tall, fit as hell, beautiful face.  He’s gonna take one look at me and say “no thank you, lady” and walk away.  Much to my surprise he didn’t.  He was very sweet and polite.

Of course, when we walked in to Lucille’s, I walked right on through, but he got carded.  Ugh.  A lovely reminder of our age difference.  Lucille’s was awesome.  Nice atmosphere, good music, lovely hipsters everywhere.  They had giant games of checkers and Tic Tac Toe on the tables.  We ordered a drink and sat in a corner booth.  He stretched out across the booth and made himself comfortable.  What a sexy man.  Beautiful smile, nice lips, pretty eyes…I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.  We had a great chat.  It felt comfortable and right.  He was funny, too, which is the sexiest part of all.  We talked about his acting career and my short films.  We talked about his job doing promos and how much he travels, which is a lot evidently.  We talked about our past relationships and what we’re looking for.  When he got up to go to the bathroom, he asked me for a hug and said that I was sweet, which was sweet.

When we finished up at Lucille’s we went to a bar on West 6th called Kung Fu.  Great music, tons of people hanging out and dancing.  It was a fun atomosphere.  Who knew I was missing out on all of these amazing places in Austin?  I need to get out more.  He received a text from his friend to go across the street to a bar called Dirty Bill’s, so we went over there.  The music was old school hip hop.  Folks were dancing and drinking and having the best time.  His friends were sweet to me and accepted me like I was one of their own.  One of his friends told me that they were from Mumbai (I think)  She said that age doesn’t matter there.  They don’t celebrate birthdays.  When someone dies, they just make up a birthdate to put on the death certificate because they honestly don’t know how old someone is.

We danced and partied until the bar closed.  It was fun to watch him dance and let loose.  He was happy.  The guy is so handsome that some chick came up and asked if she could take a picture with him.

Afterward we went to his friend’s house, where he is staying for SXSW.  We went straight to the bedroom.  I won’t go in to great detail, but I will say that I’ve never been with a man who is so blessed.  I don’t think I could be with him on a regular basis.  My poor body couldn’t take it.  It was a little intimidating.  I’ve always heard that size doesn’t matter, but it does when you’re riding that pony.  Size matters a lot.

The best part was that every second of it was beautiful and sexy.  There wasn’t one false moment in the whole experience.  At least not for me.  Maybe he’s just that good of an actor, I don’t know, but it felt good and right.

So, I busted my Tinder cherry.   I hope I see him again.  I also hope that I’m not making a complete and total fool of myself.  I’m gonna follow through for a little while and see what happens.

In the meantime, I’m having a great time.  It’s fun to see who I match up with and who actually contacts me.  There are some beautiful men out there.  Who knew that some of them would “like” an old broad like me?

Can I be frank?

I am a 50 year old woman who is tired of going without. (I turn 50 next month, so I’m owning it early).  Without romance, companionship, sex.  It’s been years since I’ve had a all of those things.  The saddest part about the whole thing is that I was married to a man for 10 years.  He was  tall, beautiful, talented, funny, intelligent …everything a woman could want.  The only thing lacking was sex.   That man could go for years without ever trying to make love to me.  He just had no interest in it.

I should have known something was wrong when we were dating.  He could never last more than a minute, literally.  He would claim it was because he was nervous, or he was feeling guilty about his girlfriend.  (I know, I know…I’m evil.  He was with someone that he was unhappy with.  According to him, they never had sex.  Of course, looking back I totally believe that one!)  Anyway, our sex life wasn’t the best while we were dating.  He ended up leaving his girlfriend and moving in with me.  Sex was still pretty lousy.  But I didn’t care, I loved him.  He was supportive.  He helped me follow my dream of being a screenwriter. He encouraged me to be the best that I could be.

There’s an old saying about married sex.  When you get married, for the first year, every time you have sex you put a penny in a jar.  After the first year, every time you get married, you take a penny out of the jar.  Well, our first year we wouldn’t have put a quarter’s worth in and we wouldn’t have taken a dimes worth out for the other nine years.  We didn’t have sex for the last three years of our marriage.  I was so sexually frustrated.  I can’t tell you how many nights I begged him to make love to me.  I think he probably had a little vomit in his mouth at the thought of it.  He acted like the thought made him sick.

I know that sex isn’t everything, but it is something valuable and important in a relationship.  I need sex.  I crave it.  Sex makes me happy.  But my ex didn’t need it.  Not from me anyway.  He did manage to have an affair with a big old honking bull dyke looking chick, though.  Go figure.  He wouldn’t touch me with a ten foot pole, but he had an affair with the most abrasive and crude nurse at the hospital where we both worked.  Lucky me, I walked in and found them together.  After ten years of marriage, I find my husband screwing a big old heifer on his desk.  Lovely.

He had other issues, like the fact that he kept long evening gowns hidden in the back of the closet and refused to get rid of them.  I put them in a stack for Goodwill, thinking that they would be gotten rid of, but found them several months later hidden in the closet again.  I think he is a cross dresser. I think he is attracted to men or to women who remind him of men.  He was feminine in a lot of ways.  I guess I just didn’t want to see it.  After months of pressuring him, he finally went to the doctor and had a testosterone test.  He had zero testosterone.  He refused to take testosterone pills in order to help our sex life.  He had absolutely no desire to be with me.

I loved and adored him, but after ten years of being rejected I had enough.  Now I’m divorced and am trying to navigate my way through this crazy dating world.

As a 50 year old woman, I have to say I am lost.  Men my age don’t see me.  I’m invisible to them.  I’m not saying I’m gorgeous or anything, but I’m an attractive, fit, funny, friendly woman.  I have big dimples and a friendly smile.  People are naturally attracted to me, but not men in their 40′s and 50′s.  To them I’m some old grandma who is wrinkled and fading away.  Younger men see me.  Younger men still see me as a younger woman.  I noticed it this past summer.  I haven’t worn shorts out in public for years.  My son bought a paddle board for me.  I would take it down to the river where folks walk and run the local trail.  Beautiful, hot guys would smile at me and talk to me.  I know the paddle board caught their attention, but I kept it. It made me realize that I’m not some faded out old biddy.  I still have it in me to attract men.

I read an article about a woman in England who was 60.  She said that when she turned 60 she felt unwanted, nonsexual and dried up.  She wanted to feel like a woman again.  She decided she was tired of dating older, flabby men so she joined a website called Tinder.  She posted that she was 54 and sat back to see what kind of response she would get.  Evidently she had a great response.  Tinder is a site where you post a picture and a little bit about yourself.  Very basic stuff.  If a man likes you he’ll click a heart button and if he doesn’t, he’ll “x” you out.  If you like him too, it will let him know that you are a match. She said that men in their 20′s and 30′s responded to her because they are tired of younger women.  They like older women because we have no inhibitions.  We know what we want and aren’t afraid to ask for it.  According to her  blog, she had slept with 15 young men in a year.

I know that a lot of people read that article and thought that it was horrible.  I’m sure they called her a slut and a whore, but when I read it I thought “good for her”.  I know exactly how she feels.  I long for good old passionate sex.  I want to feel like the sexy, attractive woman that I am.  I want to have a man make love to me more than once in a night.  I want a man to ravish me.

So, I joined Tinder.  Right away I started getting matches from guys in their twenties and thirties.  A few forty something’s, but mainly younger men.

I’m going to see what happens and share it with whomever may read this blog.  I don’t know if I’ll be brave enough to do the one night stand thing, but I’m going to see where this goes.  It’ll be fun.  I’ll post a blog for each adventure that I go on.

Wish me luck!