17
by Mandroid20_Archive
When I was just barely 23 I married a 30-year old. It was only an issue when he'd bring up something pop cultural that occurred before I was born and I'd have no clue what he was talking about. Other than that, he may as well have been 5 years younger than I was. When I met him, he wasn't wearing any pants and was running about drunk and on various drugs with his cock flopping in the wind through an alleyway in back of a club in Shawano, WI. I also thought that he was gay and proceeded to hit on the actual boyfriend of his film partner, assuming that my potential husband was the bitch in that relationship. Oops.*
(*Then we all danced to "Hava Nagila," which for reasons unknown to anyone I've ever asked is in the jukebox of a dive bar in Shawano, WI.)
My most major ex- was in my high school graduating class. He's prematurely ancient and back when we were dating, we'd go on dates to the casino and listen to Frank Sinatra albums cranked through the stereo on the way there, and sometimes he'd sing songs from "Fiddler On The Roof" to me. It still blows me away that he's just under a year older than me. He's had arthritis since I met him, for the love of god! He likes golf and wine-tasting and wears socks with sandals. He's an accountant now, which is appropriate.
"To be stupid, selfish, and have good health are three requirements for happiness, though if stupidity is lacking, all is lost."
-Gustave Flaubert