I went on my first online date! Yup, I took that shit IRL because well, YOLO and all that. Also, I said I would be proactive on the dating site and I am a woman of my word. Mostly. Let me just say that it was not easy picking a viable date because the situation is bleak within the online romance world. I have heard all the stories of people meeting on there and then going on to marry and so forth, but I would be extremely interested to know if anyone has heard such a story within say, I don’t know… the last 3 years? Because I reckon those success stories were of a different internet and probably not of the internet that is today. I pity the fool that is on these websites looking for anything other than a few hilarious dates and possibly a below-average shag.

But I digress… let me tell you about my date. Picking one was like choosing from a box of chocolates, except all that was left were the coffee and orange flavoured ones and a half eaten Turkish Delight. I know, I know… I sound like a real bitch but COME ON. Don’t you think I want to come across someone delicious? A real chocolate praline crunch of man? I am not averse to actually meeting someone on this damn thing you know…

So I picked one, and I picked him because we had banter. I like banter. Banter is what keeps you interested when looks fade away like the colours of these autumn leaves outside my window. Also, he was 24 and he was very open about his penchant for ‘older women’. At 31 I don’t mind being referred to as an older woman by boys in their twenties – it’s when ‘cougar’ starts getting thrown around that I become anxious. He also had a little Jew-fro which I generally find adorable and, I won’t lie, I thought it could be fun in an Ashton Kutcher–Demi Moore kinda way but without Bruce Willis playing third wheel.

As I sat patiently in the pub cradling my beer I received a text message from Ashton Kutcher announcing that he had arrived and was out front and was too intimidated to come inside. Wonderful! Off to a great start! I gave him the motherly “Don’t be so silly!” text of encouragement back and in he came adorned with a backpack and Space Invaders jumper. Hmm, a little more Kevin from The Wonder Years than Ashton Kutcher, to be real. Even the way he slouched in his chair and dropped his backpack in the middle of walkway (which the waitress scolded him for because she tripped over it and she had to hang it up for him) screamed “YOUTH! YOUNG! AWKWARD!” – you know, all those things you have to deal with in your early twenties.

The conversation went well… ok, well-ish. I asked him about uni and his eight housemates and enquired what it was like having to share a room with two others (!) and you know, all the usual stuff. But the majority of the conversation was probably about his ‘job’. It appears my little Jewish Kevin from The Wonder Years has spent hours upon hours studying the art of poker and finds himself at the casino most days where he unleashes his skill and ‘probably wins 4 out of 5 times’. That is his job. As in, that is what he puts down next to occupation when he is filling out a form – ‘Poker player’. But wait! Guess what happens next. As I show interest and ask more questions about his employment choice he interrupts me by saying “I find you extremely attractive.” Um, thanks Kevin, and so I blush slightly and as I open my mouth to make another poker enquiry he literally lunges across the table and tries to kiss me. It was such a sudden movement! Like a chameleon reaching for a fly! I put my hands out in front of me and pushed his face away with a “Woah woah woah! Chill out!”. Kevin the chameleon ain’t so intimidated after all, huh? Especially when he responds with, “I’m sorry. When I see something, I take it. And like right now my penis is pointing directly at you.” WELL CAN IT NOT? I would have probably kissed him if he wasn’t so, I dunno, awkward and weird. And not awkward and weird in an endearing way, but awkward and weird in a way that made ME feel awkward and weird.

I get why young dudes are into women in their thirties and I have an inkling it all comes down rumpy-pumpy, how’s your father?, rolling in the hay, etcetera. They see us as experienced and, here’s the word, maternal. It won’t be long until they start inverting the numbers of their preferred female from 32 to 23 though. When you’re a young lad, there would be a feeling of achievement of ploughing an older bird, just like there is when older guys pull a girl in her twenties. But the problem with being an older women going out with an inexperienced, earnest early twenty something is that you can’t help but wonder, what’s in it for me? Especially when he doesn’t even know who Kevin from The Wonder Years is.

Keep up with The Obnoxious Owl’s weekly ‘Shooting from the Hip’ column here.