MY NYMPHO (Dating After 40)

I went out on a blind date with this lady and she never went home again, at least not to the home she had been living in. (No I didn’t tie her up.)

I am not a big believer in love and marriage. I am a believer in convenient living arrangements. They are far more stable.

So I went out with this very attractive brunette. She was a dancer with a major ballet company in our area. (Ladies in ballet often have trouble finding men who are interested in ladies.) She was in the process of selling off her many assets with her recently divorced husband. Her home was up for sale and she had to find a place to live.

Hey, stay with me. Why not?

She had a son in early teens, just starting high school.

That’s okay. He can come too. (My son was six at the time.)

You see how easy that is?

So we combined our immediate families.

I straight away discovered that she was a nymphomaniac. She was also a one-man woman. She wanted me to “do it” three times a day. I didn’t know that was physically possible. I discovered it was. (My testicles started aching. I went to a doctor. He just laughed at me when he discovered the reason. The ache went away when the area adjusted to the work load.)

The newly combined family got along very well. The lady was a definite keeper, we were totally compatible.

Then I was introduced to the cancer in the arrangement. She also had a daughter, who was in her late teens, a high school drop out. This blonde daughter looked very much like Paris Hilton except she had much bigger boobs. She had recently married this “wonderful” guy. They had been living on my lady’s yacht, and, I learned later, burglarizing other boats in the yacht harbor.

The young couple came over our place for dinner. He was a musician, he said. As if for proof, he pulled out a flute and played a note. He was just learning this particular instrument he explained. He was also a gardener and worked on this crew occasionally. He also laid carpets when a friend called. He had a line on this scuba diving course and could make $200 an hour diving for abalone. In the meantime, he was making roach clips that a friend of his sold.

They spent the night. When they left in the morning, they stole my newspaper out of the driveway.

After they left I told my lady, “That guy will never work a day in his life.”

I couldn’t see how he could ever support a wife.

I was wrong.

He got her pregnant. If there was one thing this guy knew, it was the welfare system. His mother had been on it for years. Somehow, they got an apartment and a monthly stipend on the basis of her pregnancy and his not being able to support her. What a guy.

You should have seen him strut around after that. He saw himself as a responsible husband, taking care of his pregnant wife. He was the breadwinner.

They had a ritual. When the welfare check arrived, they went to a fancy restaurant and had a lobster dinner.

My lady and I had a ritual. After the daughter called later in the month, broke and hungry, we brought them bags of groceries.

I could see where this was heading. There was no way in the world these two would stay together. There was no way in the world this blonde ditz would want to be saddled with a baby. My lady didn’t know it but she had a baby in her future. Not only that, I could see a whole string of babies being left at her doorstep. This was a gorgeous, fertile little baby factory.

I started looking for a way out. I admit it. The idea of helping to raise the product of those two was not attractive to me. What were the chances that would turn out well? But I couldn’t kick the lady out.

Then I got lucky. Her boy got arrested for weed. We also found weed in the house. I had made it clear, in the beginning, that was forbidden. I didn’t want that stuff around my kid.

I suggested the kid go live with his father. That seemed a perfect solution to me. He needed a father’s influence, which I couldn’t provide.

Evidently, in their family situation, that was impossible. So the lady moved out, and I dodged a bullet.

Don’t misunderstand me. She was great. I’d be with her yet, but that was too much baggage.

I saw her many years later. That couple split up not long after the baby was born. The baby boy had been left with her and hadn’t turned out great. I gathered it was not the only grandchild she had been given to raise.