Older Dudes Dating Way Younger Chicks, are you fucking kidding me?

Me and my MAIN Man, Bennie.  Bennie goes for older broads; he's got good taste.

Anyway, today, as I was cruising home from the gym, I saw this dude's S.U.V. who've I'd admired from afar since he's an engineer at the same place that shares my gym (not the same engineer as the guy who's crushing on me, different one this time).  He looks like Justin Bateman only with Drew Carey glasses.  Hot.  Intelligent.  Witty.  I'd put him at 40-something.

One day last year we bumped into each other, and exhanged a few words.  Since then, and the explosive hotness I've felt since then, I've made sure I look hot while cruising by his office window as I head to the gym.

So, today, I was splitting from the gym and rode by Murphy's, this trendy gastro-pub, when I noticed his S.U.V.  Since his S.U.V. stands out in a crowd with its Yakima on top and many bicycle stickers, I knew it was him.  Already, because of his outdoor-enthusiast stickers all over the Yakima, I know we have a ton in common right outta the gate.

Excitedly, I pulled in and went to the patio.  There he was.

GORGEOUS.  Geek Sheik, that he is.  He was sitting with a slightly feminine looking man.

So I plopped down at the outside bar and thought, "He's gay."  Oh, well.  Maybe we can be friends at least some day, do a little biking together, sigh.

Then his friend leaves.

And Hottie walks right by me to go to the restroom.  I wonder if he recognizes me.  How can he not, I wonder as I've been going to this particular gym for years.  And well, damn it, I look good.

But he then goes back to his seat.  A few minutes later a young lady, easily only 25 years old and beautiful sits down next to him.

I study them in the covert way that only I can do.

I note that this young lady is trying to look older (more mature) than she is in years, hence, sophisticated sunglasses, hair in a bun, Ina Garten-style neck scarf that no one her age would wear.  She's as pretty as me, but 25 years ago.

Then she notices me noticing them, only she must not say anything to him, for he never turns around.  Instead, she puts on her dark sunglasses, circa Jackie O'Nasis era.  This is obviously a ploy to watch me, while I'm watching them but appear undetected, for it's not sunny at all where they are sitting.  I'm a fucking writer, a natural detective and damned good at what I do.

Meanwhile, the guys sitting next to me, total strangers, embark on a hillarious conversation about a drunk that they're watching who's passed out a couple tables away.  They engage me, and I pay attention to them for awhile.  Eventually, they leave.  Bummer.  So I go back to watching Hottie and his baby girl.

I was totally confused by Hottie and why he'd be hanging out with this INFANT when there's obviously well-seasoned, hillarious, wild hotter women out there, well, say like me.  Why isn't she snagging some 25 year old with his MBA?  Why my hottie?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, 1945 called, and Bogie wants his fedora back.  I GET that in the "old" days men went for young broads, because men back then, were spoiled rotten in a society that doted on  white men and the privies that they got.

But this is 2013.

What. The. Fuck. Gives?