I once ID’ed a guy. We were at a club and he was hitting on me. I suppose the fact that he was pursuing me caused some alarms to go off (that’s not a common occurrence.) He didn’t look that young, but I assumed there was only one of two reasons why he was hitting on me: 1) He was just a baby, but was feeling like a big shot or 2) He was actually interested (haha yah I couldn’t help but laugh at the second one either.) Clearly, it had to be number one. Here is how the scenario played out:
He hits on me. I ignore him, assuming he is deranged, drunk or in diapers. He hits on me again. I ask him how old he is. He tells me. Old enough, but I still don’t believe him. I ask him what year he was born. He tells me. Fuck, too bad I suck at math and can’t figure it out fast enough in my pixilated haze. I also still don't really believe him. So finally I say, “Give me your license.” He does. Okay, he is legit.
Now at this point, due to all alcohol, the scenario seemed completely logical. It wasn’t until the next morning when the realization started to sink in: ID’ing a guy is kind of strange. I stumbled out into the living room and announced to the couple spooning on my couch, “I ID’ed a guy last night.” I feel weird. The male part of the couple confirms my fears stating, “That’s weird.” The female laughs and agrees. They go back to sleep. I re-stumble into the bedroom and watch Sex and the City: hoping for some inspiration or clarification.
I’ve looked like I was twenty-something years old since I was fourteen; thus, buying alcohol and getting into bars in my pre-legal days was not much of an issue. The story was true for most of my girlfriends, and by 16 we all had fake ID’s and were regulars at various watering holes. I’m horrified to look back and imagine how dense we probably seemed, but that is another article for another time. The central issue is that if we were doing it then everyone is doing it now. Thus, guys as young as who knows may be both the predator and prey at our supposed safe zones – bars.
The purpose of this article is to flush out an issue I am currently struggling with: I have no sense of age. That is to say, I have no natural intuition in being able to determine a guy’s age. This is a bad enough skill to lack at a bar – but for the most part it doesn’t really affect me, as I’m not much of a “picking up at the bar” kind of gal. In real life, this issue remains a serious conundrum. If you reflect back on Abz’s article “When A Cougar Strikes” you will see my greatest fear realized. What if I unknowingly accept a drink or worse a date from a younger – much younger – guy?
I figure I need to be as pro-active as possible, and practice makes perfect; therefore, I now use the gym as my hunting grounds. That doesn’t mean I’m trying to pick up guys at the gym (believe me, The Shitty City gym is not a place you go looking for love.) Instead, I’m using the available resources to practice my flawed skill. I try and guess all the male ages: boys, guys, and men. The flaw in the plan is that I can never have confirmation. Furthermore, rather than getting better I feel like I am becoming worse.
How the $&#@ do you determine a guys age AND is it awkward, within the first few minutes, to ask his age?
