by Susie Turk

Created on: April 14, 2009   Last Updated: November 25, 2010

Is it just me, or is it reality? Dating after 40, huh? Well, let me tell you something...

Since separating from my husband January, 2009, I've been on FIVE, yes I said 5, dates.

OK, so... DATE #1

We meet at the Sizzler. He brings with him, his son. Fabulous! No, seriously, all was truly FABULOUS. Afterward we go back to his place for a bit. What a nightmare. His place is a disaster area, which, in my opinion, wasn't even fit for roaches to inhabit, let alone a 5-year-old boy.

Well, I spent a few minutes getting familiar with his son, and besides the disgusting appearance of his apartment, all is going relatively well, but wait... Next thing I know this man, my date, is holding a DOUBLE GULP sized cup filled to the brim with Mountain Dew and Vodka. Enough said. Time to go. Ba-bye.

DATE #2

Sadly, I am embarrassed to say that I honestly cannot even recall date # 2. Is it me, or is it Alzheimer's? Come on, I'm ONLY "41"!

DATE # 3

We meet in the lobby of his hotel. He thinks I am Turkish because of my last name. Unbeknown to him, I'm not. As a matter of fact, I'm an American-Jew with a brain, free will, intelligence, and most importantly, healthy boundaries, as well as a big mouth.

I have to say we got along just fine, though I was indeed surprised to learn he was only 28, as I'd been under the impression he was in fact, in his late 30's. No biggie, right? Wrong...He was all about getting L-D. Sorry Charlie! Not tonight. Not any other night either; not as far as I was concerned.

In order to make him feel better, after having been politely reject by me no-less, I humbly suggested I take him to the club of his choice, where he could then, "TRY AGAIN" whilst the night was still young. He so loved that idea. Well my friends, that's exactly what I did. I drove him directly to a Night Club, then dropped him off right at the front door. Farewell my new Turkish friend. Best of Luck to you! Viola! And, just like that, he was gone.

DATE #4

A basketball-bellied man, he is. No biggie. A great first date. He is nice enough. He is a bit simple, but seemingly intelligent, somewhat well mannered, and quite polite. The conversation is good. WOW! Maybe he is a keeper, right? WRONG!

Seriously, he sends me text messages 4 to 10 times, daily! He calls me at work though I've clearly stated I cannot receive non-emergency calls while attending work. He calls me at 4 am. Enough already. I actually had to send him a text that read, "Too much, Too Fast. SCARY!" Enough said. He has since told

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