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Why You Should Only Date Women Over 35

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Guys, it’s come to my attention that we’re all doing dating completely fucking wrong. Take me, for example: I’m a twenty-four-year-old guy attempting to date girls in my age range. That entails meeting someone, initiating flirting, asking the girl out, choosing the place for the date, keeping the conversation going, picking up the check, and paying for a cab or an Uber to get the girl home. For what? A shot at sex? The opportunity to do this whole song and dance all over again next week? Permission to meet her parents at Easter dinner that gets really awkward really fast when you tell them you don’t eat ham? What’s the point? People our age just straight up don’t know what we want. There’s no point to dating now, but we do it anyway because we’re: a) bored, b) horny, c) lonely, d) empty husks after having our ass handed to us by our ex, Karen, or e) all of the above. Is this really what we want?

No, no — you should want someone older and more mature, someone who knows what she wants and will stop at nothing to get it. Someone who will make you the center of attention, make the plans, pick up the tab, then whisk you away in a black car and take you back to her giant apartment so you can be her boytoy for five minutes. That’s right: You should only date women over the age of thirty-five.

1. They Know What They Want

You know that song “I Know What You Want” by Busta Rhymes and Mariah Carey? I think this must have been what they were talking about. These are women who kicked ass and took names in their respective fields, and they obviously still do, because they’ve got giant apartments, expense accounts, and nothing to do but crush ass and kill time. A woman of this age knows exactly what she wants and what she’s got to do to get it. Maybe she’s divorced or separated and freshly on the prowl, or maybe she just didn’t give two shits about dating idiots in their twenties and early thirties so they could rise to the top, pimp-smacking everyone in their way and crushing souls with the red soles of their Louboutins — Louboutins they bought for themselves, by the way.

They exude confidence and sex appeal because they know they’re the shit. They’re the female equivalents of the Honey Badger. They have money, influence, and you know they have sex appeal regardless of if they’re in a power suit, a cocktail dress, or a bathrobe that clings to their natural curves like nothing else on this earth can describe. If they’ve chosen you for casual dating and/or carnal relations, you are one lucky son of a bitch.

2. They’re Usually Not Clingy, At All

Here’s the deal: You are a plaything to this person. To quote Woody (which is your most important feature, heh) from Toy Story, “YOU. ARE. A. TOY.” You will be treated as such. No “What are you doing?” or “Where are you?” texts when you’re out with the boys, unless they’re for the express purpose of whisking you away for a night of “stress release” for Miss Independent — and not the one from the Kelly Clarkson song about how Miss Independent gives it all up for love. Nah, the one from the Ne-Yo song, in which he worships her for being so independent. Fuck Kelly Clarkson, she had no business beating Justin Guarini.

Make no mistake, you’re gonna get chewed up and spit out by these women. They don’t have the time to obsess over your every move or thought, and even if they did, they wouldn’t, because they just don’t give a flying fuck. They’re too busy with their own lives to get all up in your business about yours. In fact, you’ll end up being the clingy one. You’re going to be the one who stays up all night waiting for her to call you, and when she doesn’t, you’re going to get mighty pissy and bummed until she calls you again, in which case, you run to her like the puppy from those Budweiser commercials runs to that clydesdale. You’re playing right into her hands.

But speaking of playing…

3. There Are No Games

The most frustrating part of dating, in my humble opinion, is when people play mind-games with one another. There’s all that “I don’t know if they like me, do I like them, where is this going, what are we doing, what aren’t we doing?” nonsense. It’s just horseshit, really. Significantly more relationships would actually make it off the ground if people would just be honest and open with one another, but I digress. I’m not here to tell you how to date your significant other, I’m here wishing I could be nestled in the bosom of a forty-year-old lawyer, business consultant, or senior vice president at an advertising firm. Ad girls are stacked.

When you’re with a woman of this caliber, she doesn’t have time to play games with you. Games are for children, and you’re dealing with an adult. She’s going to be very upfront, open, and honest, and if you have any interest in continuing with her, you’d better act the same. Why? Because if you screw her over, she’s not going to waste any time in telling you to get lost and never call again. She won’t give you a million chances to be an idiot like a girl your own age might. She’s going to cut you off. So for anyone who’s sick of mind games and dealing with useless drama, you might want to consider pursuing a more mature paramour.

4. You’re Gonna Get Spoiled

Guys, think about how much you’ve spent this week on dating, whether that be with a steady significant other, a girl you met on a blind/internet date, or even a woman you may or may not have paid to spend time with you and perhaps service you at the end of the evening because you didn’t want to be alone on your anniversary and DAMMIT I MISS YOU KAREN, COME HOME.

Ahem. Sorry about that. Where was I? Oh yes, money. That’s a lot of scratch you dropped, and unless you’re some kind of wunderkind, you probably don’t make that much money. I mean, Valentine’s Day is coming up, gents. Dinner, drinks, gifts, candy, champagne, chocolate fondue, bed restraints — it adds up, especially if there’s no guarantee of a second date, or even an under-the-table-hand-job (UTTHJ). Believe me, I’m not suggesting that picking up the check is the same as putting out by any stretch of the imagination, but don’t you want to be the one getting showered in gifts and attention? Don’t you want to hear, “no, no, I got this” for once in your life? I know I do. I’d like to be taken out to dinner for once. I want to get a surprise gift “just because I thought it would look good on you.” Seriously, if you buy me dinner, I’ll put out for days. I’ll go downtown, too. Oh yeah. For a halfway decent meal, I’ll service her transmission, give her a foot rub, clean out her fish bowl, and rearrange the furniture in her living room without even a second thought. (For those of you playing along at home, guess which one was a euphemism for oral sex. If you said “all the above,” you’re correct!)

5. You’ll Have Your World Rocked

There’s nothing sexier than confidence. That’s a fact. You want confidence? These ladies have it in spades, and it shows regardless of if they’re in the boardroom, the bedroom, the back seat of a taxi, their office, the alley behind a Cracker Barrel, and so on. Just like in every other aspect of their life, they know exactly what they want. They’re direct about it, and if you can’t provide it, you’re incredibly disposable, so you have to get it right. There’s no guesswork involved here. It’s just point and click, because they’re pointing at you, and you better fucking click, motherfucker. You’d better fucking click, because if you do, they’ll take care of you in ways you didn’t even know were possible. They have a “particular set of skills” so strong, Liam Neeson would kidnap his own family just to smell their tights after SoulCycle.

Afterward, you guys will have a smoke, some light banter, and with a firm, open-palmed slap on the ass, you’ll be back out in the cold, like a junkie waiting for your next fix. It can be a cold, isolated existence, being the cub to her cougar, but my God, is it worth it. Or, at least, it is in my mind.

And Karen, if you’re reading this, I’m just joking, baby. I’m not dating anyone over thirty-five. I’m not dating anyone at all. Please come back from sailing the Greek Islands with that shipping magnate heir Stavros you met on Tinder. Get off that yacht and come back to our studio apartment in East Harlem.

She’s not coming back, is she?

Image via Shutterstock

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