You we’re sitting at the bar on a Friday night after an exhausting week, grieving the end of your last relationship. You’re about two cocktails deep when a man sits next to you, a much older man. About 42 years old. He orders whiskey on the rocks before looking over at you with a charming smile, his eyes looking you up and down.

“You’re too pretty to be frowning like that, penny for your thoughts?”

He is exactly what you needed tonight, someone older.