How Siani Got Her Groove Back

I met a lovely man on Saturday night. Gorgeous, in fact. Tall, dark and very handsome. In fact, he seemed perfect. I desperately needed someone to distract me and take my mind off Hot FB guy (who I still fancy like mad) and I was still a bit depressed after my crazy foray into the world of dating websites last week. Meeting him was a great distraction. Until Sunday morning. The problem is, you see, that this man I met on Saturday was born in 1990.

I know that it can go no further. It's so bloody typical that as soon as I meet a man that I really like, it turns out that he is ten years younger than me... aargh! I will have to tell him that it's a no go... if he calls me that is. I did drunkenly give him my number as I was leaving, not really considering the age issue. I suppose that if he doesn't call, then at least the problem will be solved by default.

It wouldn't matter so much if I wasn't a secondary teacher. And technically, we wouldn't be breaking any laws. But when I think that he was doing A- Levels only a couple of years ago, I do feel, as my friend J said, 'A bit icky'. There are also the practical considerations. I mean we wouldn't have anything in common, would we? What can a twenty year old boy know about anything? He didn't seem like a typical 'lads on tour type' (he was Iranian) but you never know. He seemed clever and funny and polite – unlike all the other 30 something single men I've met recently. At the end of the evening he took my number, and said he'd call. He didn't try to get into the taxi or come home with me. He seemed like a nice guy.

All my friends have recently had terrible issues with their 30 something boyfriends. Being dumped by text, being lied to and being treated shamefully by their men seems to be a running theme amongst my friends at the moment. To be honest, thirty something men seem to be weighed down with baggage and totally neurotic, like they're all having pre-mid life crises about their bald spots or something. I just keep thinking: what if this guy is actually my perfect man, just born ten years too late? I suppose by definition he can't be then...

I do feel a bit annoyed that I am bowing to society's pressure to behave in a seemly fashion and tell this boy/man that I can't see him again. A quick poll of my friends confirms that he is definitely considered to be too young for me. I agree. But at the same time I know how hard it is to find someone that you actually like. And I did like him (until I found out how old he was....)

Stella did it. But then she is a fictional character created by Terry Macmillan. And she wasn't a teacher. And she met her toy boy on holiday so there was a bit of distance. This guy I met lives in the next town. If anyone from work ever found out it would be the best piece of staff room gossip ever, which is another reason why I have to stop it right now.

I'm wondering if actual age in years is really a good indicator of maturity? Most men I know are totally immature. My sister's ex-boyfriend (who is now in his late 30s) used to collect Star Wars figures. He even had a special room to put them in. He used to spend hours arranging them on the shelf and doing God knows what else with them. Can you imagine a woman doing that? We're too busy doing the laundry and picking up after the kids.....I mean the men.

Another example of this 'boys and their toys' mentality was my ex-husband's behaviour with money. He was two years older than me and was one the most immature people I ever met. He announced, after I had been single handedly paying all our utility bills for six months that the first thing he was going to when he got his first pay check from a new job was buy a huge TV. For himself. He informed me that I would only be able to watch it when the weren't any of 'his' programmes on. He also used to spend hours playing computer games all day, lying on the sofa, allowing his mother to lovingly bring him snacks. And not just any snacks, they were his childhood favourites - she would buy them especially for him and he let her. He used to get very defensive when I would point out that playing his Playstation all day whilst ingesting cheese and onion Square crisps, Flumps and strawberry bootlaces wasn't a worthwhile pursuit for a man of thirty one.

Just think, how many women have 'games' rooms? How many women find it hysterical to fart and then hold their boyfriend/husband's head under the duvet? How many women would behave like the two examples I have cited in the paragraph above? Very few. The majority of men that I have ever met and had a relationship with were emotionally immature f**kwits, even the older ones. Maybe I'm just picking the wrong men.

So if this boy/ man calls, I will tell him politely thanks but no thanks. Yes, I like you a lot but I could be your mother (well, older sister definitely). And even though we had a lot of fun, we can't see each other again. It can't go any further.

Bugger. It's just bloody typical.