Cover of After David by ITNA Press (2024)
Logging on the site is like stepping into a candy store. Or walking into a party and waiting for someone to talk to you, some swaggering dude with a joint in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. Except he is the only one you’re waiting for.
All you’ve got to do is leave your chat window open, and the hot pink band will light up and they’ll rush in. One of the many amazing surprises of dating online in your sixties is to discover all the twenty-somethings and thirty-somethings who flock to you as the latest taboo to transgress.
Ethanb, 20 — You’re really attractive. It’s my fantasy to be with an older woman.
BMW1976, 37 — I love French women
Desire4Mature, 42 — The dynamic is unmatchable when it’s the right older woman and a younger man.
Eljefe86, 27 — I know I am a bit young but I think you should give me a chance…
How could I resist clicking?
The first time we met was in Tompkins Square Park, around noon, before he went to his day job at a nearby recording studio. He had contacted me on the dating site a couple of weeks earlier. Hi, I am Jonah, you seem quite lovely. I liked that word lovely. Almost old school, anachronistic, even. So much more respectful and charming than the raunchy pick-up lines guys on the site tossed like so much hastily knotted bait in the dating river. A touch of old-fashioned gallantry that contrasted with the pictures of this cool guy, sexy as hell, with his scruffy beard, dark curly hair, beat-up pair of Converse, and an electric guitar on his knees.
Still, when I saw how young he was—thirty-seven—I hesitated. I was sixty-two. A full generation older. He gently insisted. I gave him my phone number and he called me. His voice was smooth, just a little nasal, relaxed. Not pushy. When you meet someone online, you make your decision to go ahead or not on tiny clues. He worked two blocks away from my place. Why not get together for coffee?
It was mid-September, a few days after my birthday. The weather was warm, with a trace of cool, the elm trees still glorious, their green just a bit dusty after the hot summer. I waited for him by the dog run and watched a pair of pit bulls frolic. I had an envelope under my arm, with my bank statement proving I could cover Louise’s rent in Brooklyn in case she came short. I had to have everything photocopied so Louise could sign the lease. I was nervous about whether I had enough money in my relatively small investment account to qualify as guarantor. New York landlords require solid cash in the bank.
Excerpt from AFTER DAVID by Catherine Texier, published by ITNA Press. Copyright © 2024 by Catherine Texier. Reprinted courtesy of ITNA Press.
Read a conversation about After David between Catherine Texier and Hannah McIntyre.
