Younger Man, Older Woman

A friend of mine recently met the perfect man. Or he would be, except for one thing. He's six years younger than me, she said plaintively. She didn't know this when they met and connected, but now that she does it's a whole different ball-game. She has been going through hell this entire past week - mainly because she has refused to see him or take his phone-calls. I CAN'T go out with a younger guy, she said, that's not me at all, do I look like a child-molester to you?

Now, nobody except his parents, grandparents, and friends from the last generation would call this man a child anymore. He's twenty-nine and growing, and a successful day-trader to boot. This last I mention not to harp about his financial suitability - my friend is a doctor and doesn't need a man to 'keep' her - but to show that he can both take care of his own stuff and that of other people. My friend, the doctor, wouldn't have to pick up after him or spoon-feed him - unless, of course, she absolutely wanted to - he's putty in her hands, this guy.

Anyway, the point here is my friend's mental outlook. She's what is known as the 'Modern woman' - bright, beautiful, and successful - and yet here she is, still enmeshed in yesterday's retrograde perspective and so what if it might affect her entire life and future generations? She didn't break out into hives when she was dating a guy five years older, that was okay, acceptable, but what is NOT is Mr. Perfect being a tad younger.... I mean, Good Grief, what will people and her own mother say? Actually, her mother already said a lot - if you marry him, you can bring him and the kids up together - good luck! Things to that tune. But they shouldn't really bother my friend. She never listened to her mother when she was growing up, so why start now? And, as for the rest, this is the independent girl that gets righteously agitated about equality issues. In fact, I distinctly remember first hearing that famous line 'What's sauce for the gander, is sauce for the goose!' from this goose's beak. So what happened?

Has 'social conditioning' won out finally? It looks like it might have. Without even meaning to we only too often fall into the trap of enacting roles foisted on us by society and, despite wanting things differently, we find it difficult to break free. It is absolutely annoying. I don't like to see my friend being so duplicitous and I like fairy-tale endings.

I've been reading up on this, she snapped, not pleased to have that old linen aired, and these May-December pairings are not at all a good idea, not just biologically, but also psychologically!

I pointed out that, in her case, it wasn't exactly May-December - more like, May-October - a few months make a decisive difference, I assured her - besides it wasn't like she was blazing a new trail - think of Madonna and Guy Ritchie, I told her, or Cameron Diaz and Justin Timberlake, or Demi Moore and what's his name? She ignored this and began listing all other impediments she could think of. Slowly, the real issue became clear - the guy didn't know she was six years older and he would drop her like a hot potato if he found out - my friend, needless to say, doesn't want to be dropped - better to be the dropper. I mentioned she was smart, didn't I?

The phone rang at that crucial juncture. It was HIM.

Hallo, I said, ignoring my friend's arm-waving, face-distorting desperate gestures, how's the Stock Market today?

"Blooming marvelous," he said. "How is Sheila?"

"Oh, she's great - and I'm pretty fine too - we're having such absolute fun here."

"She has the absolute nerve," he said. "Open the door. I've been ringing the bell for the past five minutes."

I turned down the loud music we had on, looked out the window, and there he was on the door-step, with the cell-phone clapped to his ear.

"Do we let him come in or let him camp right outside, Sheila?"

She slumped back on the sofa and gestured dejectedly with her hand.

"Okay," he said without preamble, as he came in. "What do you mean by treating me this way? I think I deserve at least an explanation, because I sure as hell can't think of anything I might have done to offend you!"

"Of course you couldn't," I said. "You're too young to understand."

"What?" he said.

"Shut up," said Sheila and buried her face in her hands. "Okay, alright, you really want to know? I'm six years older than you."

He didn't head straight for the hills at this earth-shaking disclosure.

"So what?" he demanded.

"So what?" She dropped her hands and gaped at him.

"Yeah, so what?" he snapped. "That gives you a special license to be immature or something?"

"I'm not being immature!" she snapped and gave him the whole rigmarole she had given me. "And it's not nonsense - there's been serious scientific research on this!"

"Uh-huh," he said.

"What do you mean 'uh-huh'?"

"I didn't know you had offered yourself as a guinea pig in the lab."

"Don't be such an ass!"

"Then don't give me such bull!"

When people start abusing animals this way, it's time to fade out.

I think there's hope for them though.