Kids These Days

Story Sent in by Shawn:

When I saw Allison's profile I was immediately attracted to her, but she was nine years younger than I was. Figuring she'd peg me for some desperate older guy, I messaged her all the same. She wrote me back and didn't mention the age gap at all. In fact our first conversations were so great that I asked her out for drinks.

Drinks were a different story. The first two words out of her mouth when she saw me in person were, "Hey, Gramps!" Ouch. After the hug, she asked, "Been waiting here long, Gramps?"

I tried to smile it off. "I'm not that much older than you."

"I'm just kidding. Even if you're old enough to be my grandfather."

I wasn't sure how her math or biology skills added up on that. For the subsequent hour and a half she pounded drinks and made cracks about my age on repeat.

"We're practically two different generations," she said at one point, "Generation Y and generation... A!" She laughed long and hard at that. I'm not too sensitive, but I am bored easily and this date was running on fumes.

"What say we call it a night?" I asked her around 9:30.

She nearly choked herself laughing. "This early? Oh my god. Are you serious?"

I threw down enough to cover my drinks and one of hers. She was fine picking up the tab for the rest. But she didn't thank me. Instead, we went outside and I wished her goodnight and she actually followed me back to my car saying, "Heading back to the old folks' home, Gramps? They showing Matlock tonight? Need a walker, there? Or a cane? Can you hear me, Gramps? Hellooooo? The grandkids coming over tonight? Or the great-grandkids?" She laughed herself silly on that one.

I ignored her and made it back to my car. I wasn't even going to say goodnight before closing the door, but she stood right up to my seat when I climbed in, preventing me from closing the door.

"Would you mind moving?" I asked.

She cackled, "Need someone to drive you home, there? Should you even be on the road? You know, my grandmother's single–"

I shoved at her. Not hard, but hard enough to move her away. I slammed the door shut and locked it. She grabbed at the handle and tried to open it, all smiles gone. But I drove off from the mad little girl.

She called my phone three times and left three angry messages. She'd email me a few times over the next couple of days, too. But this old fellow was moving on.