Over at the Huffington Post is a column called "My Naked Truth" by Robin Korth. Korth is 59 years old, and she looks good, like a person who has lived instead of spent all their time trying to stop the clock. She's back in the dating pool, and started seeing a 55 year old man. Things seemed to be progressing quite well.
Then they got to the bedroom.
In a painfully frank column, she described his reaction to her. He told her, "Your body is too wrinkly. I have spoiled myself over the years with young women. I just can't get excited with you. I love your energy and your laughter. I like your head and your heart. But I just can't deal with your body." He mentioned that, with the lights off, he could pretend she was younger, and maybe she should buy some special undergarments to "hide" her age a little better.
If reading that doesn't make you cringe at least a little bit, then no heart beats within you. I mean, yes, we should communicate our desires and needs, but come on.
"I felt like a Barbie Doll on acid as I listened to this man. He was totally oblivious to the viciousness of his words. He had turned me into an object to be dressed and positioned to provide satisfaction for his ideas of what female sexual perfection should be."
Being a gentleman is a lost art. And no one seems to be looking for the map anymore.