The Frat Boy in the Pink Robe

People are always telling me I need to date older men, but I have found it is no different than dating someone around my own age or younger. About three years ago, I met an older man through some friends (I will refer to him as Frat Boy). I thought I’d give it a chance, but he turned out to be very immature for a man in his 50s, and we really didn’t have very much in common.

I hadn’t seen Frat Boy in quite some time and ran into him earlier this year. We kind of picked up where we left off – only as friends. We met for beers a few times, and it didn’t take long for me to remember why I suddenly fled from him three years ago. Nothing changed, and I’m pretty sure he lied about his age before, because he was five years older than I recall three years prior. Hmmm…

The last incident with Frat Boy happened a few months ago. I’d been working three jobs, six days a week, and was completely exhausted. One of the jobs is very physical, so when I get off of work, I want to relax and do nothing. (If I’m really lucky, I may con someone into rubbing my feet and legs.) One evening after a grueling day at work, I met FB for a beer or two, and he’d been drinking at a game all evening. Promising to give me a foot massage, I allowed him to come to my house. Once he arrived, I regretted it.

It was that night that I remembered how much FB’s voice annoyed me… like a high pitched nasally whine. He started off with his whine saying, “You better take a shower if you want me to rub your stinky, smelly, sweaty feet.” Mmmkay.

I barely got a foot rub. And then everything he said pierced my nerves to the bone. I finally told him to stop whining, that I didn’t want to hear it. He replied back with his whiny voice, “What! Whining? Are you calling me a sissy?”

I was like huh??? First of all, sissy isn’t even a word I use. After all, this isn’t the 1950s. At that point I was just rolling my eyes and kicking myself for allowing him over.

Next thing I know, Frat Boy decided to use my bathroom but never came out. I noticed the light off, and it connects to my bedroom, so I peeked inside. There was Frat Boy lying in my bed butt ass naked, sleeping (or pretending to). By then, I was super annoyed and decided he could sleep there and I’ll take the couch. I didn’t care. I was in pain from working all day and night and just wanted to relax and sleep.

A few minutes later, Frat Boy starts whiny yelling from my bedroom, “Susanna! Are you coming to bed? Come in here and ride this dick!”

I wanted to vomit.

He kept saying stupid shit, and I was mostly ignoring him and telling him I’m tired and not moving. Then he came through my bathroom wearing my pink velour Victoria’s Secret bathrobe threatening to leave my house in it, because he wasn’t feeling welcomed.

I swear I cannot make this shit up!

At first I was confused thinking that maybe he is a sissy, maybe he likes women’s clothing… and really, wtf?

Like a 3-year-old, Frat Boy kept threatening to leave, and I just shrugged my shoulders and said, “Okay.”

He said he was going to walk out the door in just my pink bathrobe. I answered, “Don’t forget your clothes, and don’t let my neighbors see you,” because I truly didn’t give a shit.

And he did. He drove home wearing nothing but my pink bathrobe. I told him he can have it, since he seemed to like it so much. Now he calls me almost daily begging me to call him back or to see him. I have no interest, but the asshole owes me a new bathrobe.

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