Tiggy’s Old Timer Crush Club
It’s nice to be complimented by men, isn’t it? Unless you’re a straight man. Although don’t knock what you haven’t tried.
And I do get compliments. A twinkling smile and a charming “You look nice today!” or “I’d really like to bang you!” brightens up my day no end. Unfortunately, most of the men doing the complimenting are usually quite mature…
Oh, What A Lovely War
I was sitting at a bar hoping to catch the eye of the hot barman when an elderly gentleman sat next to me and ordered a Guinness. He seemed innocent enough. You know those old guys who can drink endless pints of Guinness and talk for hours about nothing? Well, he talked for hours about nothing. His false teeth were wearing down at an alarming rate. I smiled sympathetically, hoping he’d clear off so I could share some quality time with the barman.
But then the old devil dropped his killer chat-up line like a doodlebug on a bus queue. “My dear, you are the image of my first love… she died in the Blitz”. Oh nice. Did I look like her before or after the Blitz?
Then I felt a bony hand on my knee. Ever had one of those evenings?
Dead Pigeon Fancier
The boozy company party was no better. I had invested my evening chatting up lovely Rick from Marketing only for him to slope away (well, flee) with some pathetic excuse about having to vomit in the washroom. His place was instantly filled by Charlie the janitor, who swooped on me like a gnarly old crow with a pacemaker.
Initially Charlie behaved like a perfect gentleman, bringing me Bacardi Breezers on demand and entertaining me with stories about the Korean War, garbage disposal systems and the number of dead pigeons he’d pulled from the water tank.
Then I saw that decrepit, garbage-stained hand reaching towards my knee. I decided to join Rick in the washroom.
Rockin’ the Joint
My latest wrinkly Romeo was a guitarist in a rock band that played at my local bar the other night (maybe I should stop going to bars). Under the impression he had the same rock star pulling power as Mick Jagger he slid up to me, flashed a smile and demanded the barman give me a beer. I’d prefer the barman gave me something else, but never mind.
This old rocker had obviously ingested many substances in his lifetime and he reeked of weed. There’s always room for another stoned, drunk man in my crush club! Rather than bore me senseless with tales of the road he just swigged his beer, put his skinny arm around me and asked if I wanted to go home with him. I wasn’t aware that seniors’ homes allowed visitors after midnight.
The barman was laughing too hard to help to this damsel in distress. Oh dear, I was having another one of those evenings.
I guess it’s nice to know there are men with breath in their body (just) that still find me attractive. That most of my suitors are either old, drunk, stoned or frequently all three is less flattering.
Let’s just hope they’re still interested when I hit 70…
They behave like perfect gentlemen until the lights go down over at Humor-Blogs.com
Another funny post!!!
well I am not old, drunk or incontinent and I find you attractive, in a intellectually virtual way…..ohhh wait, I am not old or drunk and I find you attractive….
If you seek a compliment from a younger, undoubtedly more virile man, then please forward a nude pictograph to: The Likely Estate, Lower Spaffton, Cockshire.
I am only too happy to oblige.
Lord Likely – pictograph of me wearing only my waxed pubic mustache attached to carrier pigeon and pigeon dispatched……enjoy
You weren’t doing too poorly until you popped Keith Richard’s picture up there. Now I know what you mean!
I have this same issue. Old men seem to adore me for some mysterious reason. They tell me I remind them of some teacher they had in 1930 who they had a crush on, or whatever.
I guess senility strikes in different ways. 🙂
Hey, us old guys need love, too.
one of the advantages of being old is you can be flirtatious and cheeky and get away with it…:)))
Are you sure that the joint you’re frequenting is a bar, not the senoir home’s café? Anyway, I should think that compliments from the old guy weigh more than compliments from the young guy, since the old guy has seen so many women and probably become quite the connoisseur?
(A word of consolation: My best ever compliment came from a gay guy…)
Maybe you should stop wearing Rub A535. That attracts old men like flies…
I was divorced a few years back and had to relearn everything. At first, I wondered why, in a bar teaming with beautiful women, only the lone pug-faced girl would walk over and express interest. It kept happening again and again.
Then it dawned on me: The hot women are not used to having to go after the guy–the guy always goes after them! Duh!
Now I have the pug-faced girl introduce me to her hot friends. LOL
I’m not sure what the flip-side of all this is for women though. Sorry.
Thanks guys, I feel a bit better. I think.
I’ve ditched the Rub A535 (is it just me or does it look like it says ‘Rub Ass’?)and repeated the words “take it as a compliment” over and over.
In a bizarre twist, yesterday I had another old guy try and hit on me! He smelled of herrings.
Hee! Good one, Tigs. I may call you “Tigs,” right? Anyway, there is no worse sensation than an old, bony hand on one’s knee. Will you be writing about your encounter with the herring-smelling gentleman? He sounds promising!
you are a true gem, twigler! i linked!