What It’s Like To Date An Older Guy


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Nice Move

Older Boyfriend

Phase 1: First meeting

Your Mentality: You first notice that this guy isn’t your average run-of-the-mill college student when he orders you an Absolut and soda instead of vodka off the rail. What does this guy shit gold? Conversation starts flowing and you realize he “graduated two years ago but some of my buddies are still in town.” Holy shit. An older guy? With a real live established job? You are SO fucking cool.

“So does that make you 24?”

“Twenty-five, actually. I took a victory lap.”

Twenty-fucking five! You’re only a sophomore! And a real, live, grown man is talking to you. You can finally live out your young-hot-girl-fucks-old-rich-guy fantasy. Except he’s still young enough to be hot. So hot.

Noted Phrases: “You’re so younngggg. Man, you make me feel old.”

*music to your ears*

Phase 2: Excitement

Your Mentality: You are real life sort of dating a guy with a job. You hang out, and go on real dates, that he pays for with real money that he didn’t get from his father. He knows things about the world — or at the very least, he orders a beer a grade above Natty Light, which is pretty fucking worldly as far as you’re concerned. He’s nothing like the fuckboys who go to school with you. At worst, he’s a fuckman, and at best? He’s a real live grownup who’s looking for commitment. No more late night “wyd” texts for you. And he has wine in his apartment at all times. You don’t have to drink random shots of whatever’s left when you go there.

All men should be as awesome and ~mature~ as he is, and you never miss a chance to remind your friends that you snagged him. You’ll pretend to be embarrassed like you’re so bad when your friends find out his exact age, but you secretly feel like the coolest mother fucker alive.

Noted Phrases: “Well, he’s older, so.”

Phase 3: Meeting his friends

Your Mentality: His friends fucking hate you, particularly the women, and you love that. Because in your mind, their hatred exactly translates to jealousy. You are young, and hot, and all their vaginas probably have cellulite. They’re old and washed up and waiting for rings, and you’re just having fun. Plus all their boyfriends probably want to have sex with you, NBD. You could survive for weeks alone on the attention you’re getting right now and vodka. *~*Love or hate me, it’s still an obsession.*~*

Noted Phrases: “They’re just jealous.”

Phase 4: Denial

Your Mentality: It first hits you that age might be more than just a number when you find yourself relentlessly making fun of a guy who lived down the hall from you freshman year because he’s going to Prom with some girl. What a fucking loser. He’s going to be at a high school event where they don’t even serve alcohol. That is completely different from a grown man going to a college party, because even though we’re not old enough to legally drink alcohol, we still have it there. What do they even talk about? Her homework? Her classes? That reminds me, I need to ask Brad to explain my econ assignment to me.

Noted Phrases: “It’s totally different. We’re both adults.”

Phase 5: Realization

Your Mentality: You wake up in your man-friend’s bed and stare for a moment, at the posters on his wall, and then you climb over him to go to the bathroom. You’d love to just get out on your side of the bed, but it’s pushed up against the wall, like he’s a child. And that’s when it occurs to you: he is a fucking child. His apartment is still a disaster. He has like three nice shirts, and he still lives with four other dudes. There is literally nothing different about him from any other guy you’ve ever dated. This didn’t make you cool and mature, it just made him really fucking immature.

Noted Phrases: “He’s a manchild.”

Another one bites the dust.


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