Last week I wrote an article about humping old men. I received some feedback from women who had in fact done just that. Humped old men for their money. The technical term is “sugar baby”
or prostitute which makes the hairs on the back of my feminist neck crawl. One woman suggested that I shouldn’t be so judgmental. Everyone is entitled to do who they want when they want in their own bedrooms.
She’s right. We should be able to stick-it to who we want, when we want to (within reason, you Stage 5 clingers). Perhaps I’m being a bit close-minded. After all, I pride myself on being open to new people and experiences. I don’t like to be judged so I try not to judge others. Maybe I need a different point of view – maybe it’s time for me to conduct a little social experiment: Finding a sugar daddy of my own
and chronicling the entire experience on this blog.
I can hear Gloria Steinem screaming over the Arizona hills – I’m howling too. This is lunacy, right? Well, that depends – I’m truly curious, so I’m joining several sugar daddy websites. I want to see if there’s any meat behind these website’s potatoes. This is my why-not moment. Why not try it? I’m not dating anyone at the present time – and really don’t want to. That’s the best kind of mentality to handle a situation like this. Besides, the older I get the more I realize that life is like water – fluid and changing. You’ve got to give yourself wiggle-room when it comes to your ideals
and creating a kick-ass story.
Speaking of old – that’s exactly what I thought I was. I’m way too old to be a sugar baby – aren’t they all under the age of 23? Don’t men my age want to date 19 years and down? Turns out, that was just a cynical misconception,
not really. Men want to date young – but no so young that you’re bringing a changing table to the restaurant. Turns out that age, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. Maybe I have a shot of eating chocolate covered strawberries on the French Rivera with a guy that looks like this:
Isn’t’ that the allure of this whole sugar daddy thing? The promise of something more than what we can provide for ourselves. Freedom can bear a heavy hand especially when that hand is holding a pile of bills. Providing for yourself can be a drag – woman are tired, overworked and grossly underpaid. No wonder many of us have felt compelled to put our profiles on websites like this.
I’m not going to talk about how sad it is that many women who want to better their lives need to do it off the back of a man; I’m not going to point out that a young girl’s objective these days is to be objectified so that a rich man will take care of them; I’m not going hypothesize that many girls feel that dating a wealthy man is their only option for a good life. I’m not going to go there, even though I just did. I’m not going to admit that I’m one of those girls too.
At the end of the sugar-daddy-day, my stubbornness will keep me from being saved. I’m not SD material because I dig my freedom too much and feel that dating a guy with money becomes like any other financial transaction – a give and take. I also believe that the majority of what’s given means getting it on in the bedroom whether I like it or not. This is a perfect opportunity to test my detective and disappearing skills because if there’s a small, wrinkled, Viagraed-out penis in my future – this experiment will be short-lived. Keep checking back for updates and stay tuned. Maybe my dreamboat will arrive to carry me into the sunset…on top of this: