as the date progressed, the stares became less... or maybe it was because i selected a seat that was a bit secluded, behind the largest plants i could spot in the place. we were seated at a lower bench-like table underneath the heat lamp. it was quite the perfect night, the air was warm, and the lights from the embarcadero glistened against his glass filled with heineken. the conversation was easy... work, politics, the city. he was easy to talk, knowledgeable, well-versed (well, i guess he should be... considering he's had 20 years headstart under his belt). and clearly the dude knew how to get a lady interested... he genuinely wanted to know more about me. he asked about my family and friends, what i enjoyed doing, was i happy here. it was quite refreshing. kind of like the second round of ginger ale vodka he had waiting for me when i came back from the restroom. (in retrospect, i probably shouldn't have drank that. that's how u get ruffied. i was fine tho, so i guess the guy gets two points for character.)then came the real questions (of course from me).
me: age?... him: 45
me: family?... him: children
me: wife?(i'm not a homewrecker and wanted to give full inspection before i have a woman knocking on my door with a knife in hand)... him: separated
me: back to children. ages?... him: 6 and 9 and i drive them to school everyday
me: hmmmm.... him: dinner?
me: hmmmm.... him: weekend at the beach sometime?
me: whoa!

here's when i had to hit the pedal a bit. this was a lot to take in. i didn't want to lead this guy on too much. and basically what i mean by that is, i'm not quite ready to be a julia roberts in stepmom. he walked me to the bus stop (the stares were back). we chit chatted plans for the week...mine being work and drinks with friends... his being dinner with the former mayor. but he made sure to mention that despite his busy schedule, he definitely could find the time to hang out. again, refreshing. i gave him a kind "we'll look at the calendar," and he gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
as i headed home, i thought about what it would be like to date "45." comfort, stability, great meals, luxury vacations, parties with the mayor. i mean, i could probably get over the stares for the benefit of all the aforementioned. and then a vision entered my mind, i'm driving a beautiful black land rover through mill valley (wearing a prada sunglasses, a cashmere wrap sweater, cartier watch, and louis vuitton bag on the center console). however, back behind me are two children yelling that i can't make lunch like their real mom does, my cell phone is ringing out of control as the ex tries to get in contact with me about sam's pills that he left at her house, the golden retriever that the kids begged for us to bring in the car is puking all over the leather seats, and 45 is nowhere to be found... off to europe for some conference. fantasy over.

is 45 a reality? for me?
ADH
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