Military Man

He is in the military, much younger than the last. 36 years old. He lives in Monterey, and I am still not sure of his name – Tom maybe? Yes, let’s just call him Tom. He used a fake name on his profile, this I remember. But don’t we all?

He was quite cute, though also a bit shorter than me. Fit. I could tell he works out. Nice eyes and smooth clear skin. He was very easy to talk to, and seemed very pleased to be there with me. Being with him felt much like a regular date, we didn’t look too unusual together, sitting across from each other in the ocean front eatery in the cozy village of Capitola. Two minutes into taking his seat across from me he opened up his wallet and handed me two crisp $50 dollar bills. Well, That’s out of the way.

He has been oversees in Afghanistan, and many other places, for a very long time. No women, apparently. He explained that he was so lonely over there he needed to find a girl for when he got back. After browsing the web he stumbled upon a popular sugar daddy type website and began lining em up. Upon his return to the States he had his pick, and decided to fly a lovely young lady up from LA to live with him in his Monterey home. She wouldn’t work, she made a mess, she drained him, she wouldn’t do anything. Most importantly, he said, she wouldn’t leave.

One bad experience after the next led him to sign off, and switch to the less aggressive and more illusive website where he met me.

“But why join this type of website at all?” I was curious. He didn’t seem like he really needed to be on any such website, at least not at first glance.

“I don’t like the games,” he said. “I like everything to be straight forward. I am a giver, and enjoy the finer things in life. I enjoy beautiful women. And I have an easier time finding them this way. After all, look who I am sitting across from. Can you blame me?”

Tom mostly talked, and I mostly listened, though he was polite and did ask me a few questions about myself. I don’t like it when my dates ask me questions about myself… that’s not the point. Not only do I want them to know as little about me as possible, I want to know them. I want to hear them.

He was very taken with me, and very eager and excited to keep me in his life. He talked of road trips to Oregon, Big Sur, flights to Hawaii, and even asked me if I would go to the military ball with him in December.  He will buy me a dress for the occasion, he said.

“It should be long, black, high slit on the side, not too low cut, but definitely sleeveless…” He smiled at me. “Other than that, you can pick out whichever one you want.”

Well, December is in quite a long time, thankfully. Tom and I will be a thing of the past by then, and I will have many more stories to share – none of which will include me attending a military ball in a long black dress with a thigh high slit, sleeveless, but not too low cut…

It’s been a pleasure, Tom. Thank you for meeting me and for an enjoyable dinner, and of course, thank you for the cash. I am certain you will have no trouble at all finding a fitting date for the Ball, but I am not your girl.

I am no one’s girl.

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