hot Friday night date

La Princesita and the Young Prince were supposed to have a night, to start out a weekend, with their father. However, the Young Prince threw such a tizzy about wanting time alone with me--and granted, he does not get a lot of alone time with his Mama Llama--so I took him out as my date for the night.

To Friday Night Live. The last concert of the season. Drop Dead Sexy was headlining, an 80s party band. I saw them last year; they have so much fun while they perform, they are creative and they are good. So I was not going to miss them this year.

It was a perfect night. No humidity, lovely sunset, great patch of grass upon which I spread my Peruvian wool blanket and my Young Prince at my side. I got myself a glass of wine and the two of us dinner, and we sat and ate. The opening band was okay, but was an opener. There were three men sitting next to me in their chairs with young girls. Two were in their 50s, one perhaps mid-40s. I'm a people-watcher, and it's also a safety thing for me, to always be well aware of who is around me. Anyhow, the children kept coming over to me so I got to talking to one of the men a bit.

As it became darker, the Young Prince became sleepier and, as Drop Dead Sexy came on we only were able to dance 2 songs together when he begged me to hold him and he fell deep asleep on my shoulder as the band rocked the entire audience.

I sat myself down, cradling my son in my arms when the one man I had been talking to came over to my blanket with a glass of wine in hand.

Dude.

So he squats down by me, but then starts to complain of his knee and I offer him to sit on my blanket; there was plenty of room. But I thought, if his general age (although I suppose I am The Target Age for the age 50+ male set while I am 36, that ain't what I would be looking for IF I WERE LOOKING--which I am sooooooo not doing anyway) and physique (I would hypothetically require someone in my life who will care for and respect his body...if he can't, how could he possibly respect mine?) weren't enough, strike one. Why? Because I am demanding and I require very good physical condition, in almost every aspect of my relationship with my partner.

Take that any way you want.

Bad knees *can be* a bad sign. Must take these clues in context, however; an athlete with bad knees is a bit different than an overweight, gray-haired 55 year old (maybe I'm overestimating the age, but that's also not good if I can't estimate clearly). But his "baby sister" was there--and she is 41.

We had a nice chat, and he assisted me in folding my blanket while I gathered the rest of my goods while holding Young Prince, still zonked over my left shoulder like a sack of potatoes in a red sweatshirt.

He gave me his card, almost apologetically as my hands were full. I said that perhaps next year we'll see each other at another concert.

"Let's not make it that long."

Duuuuuude....Smoooooooth. Yikes.

I smiled, glad I had an excuse to leave and suddenly extremely happy I had not, in fact, indulged in a night out at the concert by myself.

I drove home feeling a huge balloon of disappointment rising in my chest. Is this all I would have to look forward to? Mama Llama holding Sleeping Son--desperation choice? I am, evidently, so past my prime. How would I ever get back into the dating game again when I'd be ready to do so? Or ought I plan to live the rest of my life alone? Perhaps I'll be happier that way. I really couldn't feel more alone than I have felt while married. And as a 36 year old (now...even older as time goes on...maybe that's another reason why He is stalling so on the residential separation), I would never be a very hot catch for anyone under, say, 60 years old.

I suppose there are a few things I don't understand.

1. Is wearing a ring--or not, in my case--an assumption of status? Will women who wear a ring be left alone? Do the same standards go for men? Should I just wear my ring, even charged with all that wearing a ring implies, so that I am not bothered if I ever do go out? I like to be social, I just really want friendships now. And a gay Latino dance parter. Is that too much to ask?

2. This man went and got me a glass of wine. I obviously could not go as I had a 4 year old zonked out in my arms, but did not ask him to go. I offered to pay for it, as I could have used another glass of wine, anyway. But he refused. Ought I have insisted so as to not have any obligation? Not that it was bad talking to him--it's just that it was evident that he wanted to continue this, on my terms, at a future date and I have absolutely zilcho-desire to do so.

All I want to do is have fun. I will not deny that I hunger...and that is natural for any human. But I will not use someone to satisfy my hunger. That just runs contrary to my grain. And like we talked about before regarding FWB, I need to attach myself emotionally to truly satisfy my appetite.