The New Mrs Robinson

Does age really matter in a relationship?

For me, it doesn't matter as much. I should know since Charming Calvin's at least four years younger. Well, apart from the slight ick factor about dating a fellow still in primary blues when you're already in secondary greens! But the age gap grows significantly narrower as we get older, and these days I can safely assure you that Calvin is all man so what does it matter!

Nothing wrong with dating someone younger ( or older ). Chronological age difference doesn't count as much as maturity of thought. After all what is age but a number? Date a crotchety, arthritic elder cursed with the immature mind of a flighty adolescent- and it comes up to the same after all. We love who we love, not matter what their age or what they look like.

Hell, might as well be dating a college boy - firm body, enquiring mind and all. And let's not forget the stamina of youth.

Allow me a moment to indulge in my randy college boy fantasies.


College boy anyone?
Of course my more prudent female friends think otherwise. Unfortunately for the Lushes - particularly Fabulous Fiona - heterosexual relationships are evidently held up to a different standard. Despite changing times and progressive mores, it's still not as easy for an older-woman / younger-man dynamic to be accepted here. Or at least that's what she thinks.

Fiona : You gay men have it easy! No one stares at an older fella with a younger one.
Paul : Chicken-hawks, you mean? Well, we don't stare. Much. But really, it's all in your mind.
Fiona : Come on, he's younger than me! He was in primary when I was already finishing form five!
Paul : So what? So was Calvin. The gap doesn't matter much at all.
Fiona : Seriously?
Paul : Nothing wrong with a bit of crazy cradle-snatching after all. I find it sexy.
Fiona : Bitch.
Paul : Cougar.

Kidding aside, I didn't think it really mattered much so I talked Fiona into letting me meet her new fella. Any doubts I had disappeared when I saw McMullah walking in. With his finely-trimmed beard, it definitely helped that he didn't resemble a smooth-cheeked teenager in the least.

And he's certainly no kid. :)

Certainly deserving of a Mc. Over sushi, our newly christened McMullah extolled the virtues of the Iranian countryside, gave away secrets about his secret shellfish allergy - and got roped into formulating a facebook game based on the Islamic clergy. Think of it as the Ayatollah School with points gained for suitable attire ( covering pertinent aurat ) and memorizing the Quranic verses.

Proving that the younger generation can be more tolerant, McMullah didn't even mind that I flirted shamelessly with the waiter. Of course he missed the earlier bit when I was talking about the waiter's thick, dripping sushi roll.

Fact is I'd date McMullah myself. If he had a gay brother. Even if he was younger by more than a decade. Just call me Mr Robinson.