Your Pov:
As someone who hadn't dated in a long time—let alone blindly—I was feeling a little anxious. I had sworn off dating as a social convention, but I checked the dating site where I had an old profile out of sheer boredom and noticed some matches. I paid to find out who they were because I was intrigued and I had some extra cash right now. One was a cranky, irritating woman who was probably my age, but I chose to ignore her. Whiners were not what I needed in my life. They exuded bad vibes and all that.
Next was a recent widow who appeared to be content with her situation a little too much. She gave me shivers just by that alone, and I turned her down as well. "Black Widow" was emblazoned on her. Even though the third match was a little younger than what I had previously gone for, I liked what I saw. Alright, I reminded myself, dating ladies your own age hasn't proven to be a good idea thus far, has it? That was fine for lighthearted enjoyment, but I wasn't sure they would make a good romantic partner.
My boundaries and expectations were clear enough to be difficult even on their own. As they stepped out on him as much as they pleased, the majority of women my age looked yearned to get on a guy's back, ride him to a simpler existence and keep him to themselves. A golddigger who cheats was not what I wanted. Rather than covert infidelity that kept me in the dark, I desired open and sincere polyamory. Even with the younger girl, to be honest, I wasn't really holding out much hope that this would be anything but amusement at this point.
"I might as well go for it. At least I'll be seen with a younger woman and that will probably fuck with my ex's head. She has it coming, too. That alone is worth spending a little money on a date," I told myself.
I could have gone on a coffee date, insisted on Dutch, or something else, but I didn't want golddiggers. I wanted word of mouth. In this day and age of social media and influencers, women, particularly younger women, have a tendency to brag about their dates. I might as well use it for my own gain. It may not have been a wise financial investment, but I knew I'd get some gratification from driving a further stake in the vanity and ego of my ex-wife and ex-girlfriends.
I swiped right on the younger lady, and to my amazement, she contacted me almost quickly. My hackles were raised, largely due to concerns that this could be a catfish scenario. Still, if she were a catfish, I'd dangle the bait for her to see if she bites. She sent me three emojis, all hearts, and one word: Daddy.
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I began my opening salvo by typing, "Well, I do have daughters. Three of them, in fact. No sons. I'm not sure how that worked out. I'd have to ask their mother."
"Are any of your daughters married or are they all single?" the young lady replied with a wink emoji.
That was odd, I thought. Why would she ask questions about them? Maybe she wanted to hang out with them or something? Maybe she wanted to know if they knew anyone in common? I wasn't sure.
Anyway, I sent a question mark emoji. "Not married yet. I don't know why. I'd have to ask them very awkward questions and it's really their business until or unless someone wanted to introduce someone to me or whatever.
If things get that serious, then I might have some input or perspective or wisdom to impart. The youth don't tend to listen to their elders these days if they ever did. I certainly didn't do as much as I should," I replied laconically.
"Are you a single father, divorced, or a widower?" was the next query.
"Divorced. Once. I've had girlfriends, too. They just never worked out for me. Most were around my own age. This is a change for me, shopping in the junior section. I suppose that was because I traveled more in those circles and tended to meet women closer to my own age. It hasn't panned out so far, as I said," I messaged back.
"Just the one marriage? Hmm... Just like my father. He divorced my mother some time back. It's still a bit of an open wound. I hate how much both of them hurt... And have hurt each other. Still, I have to confess that it was probably mostly Mom's fault. She cheated first, at least. Then he cheated back. I can't blame him too much for that. People make the mistake of thinking that Daddy is a pushover. They tend to push the envelope and then he shows them that he ain't," the young lady responded.
"It sounds as if you don't have as many Daddy issues as I first thought," I mused.
"Oh, I kinda do... in a way. It's just that Daddy is an intense kind of guy. He's a very private person in some ways. He's not perfect. I can see that. Neither is Mom, though she has good traits. I just think that Mom has more... psychological baggage or whatever and I'm not always convinced that she's a good person. Sometimes. I waver back and forth on that issue. I've never had any doubts that Daddy is a good guy, even when he does things that bother me," the young woman told me now.
"So, who raised you?" I asked her next time.
"Both of them... at first. Then they divorced, and of course, Mom got primary custody. Daddy got secondary and/or visitation. That sucked ass, not because I hate Mom. I don't. But we all wanted more time with him. I don't doubt that he wanted more time with us. He has a poker face most of the time, but every time he had to take us back to Mom's, I could see the pain in his eyes, in his face. It was the strained, forced smile of an unhappy father who already missed his daughters. Like you, Daddy had no sons, just daughters.
"One time, he had to discipline my little sister Melody, and she refused to see him on the next visit. I could see how much it hurt him. I told her as much and she put on a stubborn face at first. But next time around, she didn't refuse to see him. She gave him a bigger hug than our sister or me," my prospective date said next.
"Your sister's name is Melody?" I reacted to that, "so is my daughter's. My youngest daughter, in fact. I have Bunny, Becca, and Melody."
"Oh, wow... my name is Bunny and I'm the oldest. Melody is the baby of the family. Is your Becca the middle daughter, by any chance?" the young lady informed me.
"Yes, as a matter of fact. Your name is Bunny? Do you go by Bunny or Bun or...?" I trailed off."I go by 'BunBun,' because that's what Daddy always called me. I refuse to be called 'Bunny' or even 'Bun' by folks. Daddy calls me 'BunBun,' so that's who I am. I wish that it wasn't such a lie sometimes. I mean, I'm not as angelic as I could be. I'm sure Daddy knows, but being Daddy, he still calls me that," the reply came next.
"Bunny... wait, what is your mother's name? Is it Ashley, by any chance?" I panicked, realizing something now was a possibility.
"Yes, it is. Is your name... (Insert Name), by any chance?" she retorted.
"Yes, it is. Why do you ask?" I toyed with her a little, wanting to have a moment's fun for the confirmation of my fears.
"Um... are you... (Insert Name), Age (Your Age), of (Location)?" she asked now.
"Yes... are you... Bunny (Insert Your Last Name) currently living in (Location)?" Next, I probed.
"Daddy... is that you? Have I been talking... and flirting, with my own father?" My daughter basically spoke the unspoken truth that we both feared up until now.
"Yes, BunBun, I'm afraid so. Apparently, I'm an old pervert or creep or whatever, flirting with my own daughter, no less," I accused myself next.
"No, Daddy, you didn't know. What are the odds, right? Anyway, can we still meet... for dinner or something? I know that I'm not what you were looking for, but I really want to speak to you. I want to hang out with you. I only live in (Location). It's not too far away. It hasn't been for you to visit me at high school and all. Pretty please?" Bunny pleaded with me, clearly wanting some time with her old man.
I admit that I wasn't searching for a dinner date with my firstborn daughter, or any of my daughters for that matter. Bunny was correct, at least. Even so, I would never turn down the chance to hang out with any of my girls... the ones that were still my girls. Of course, I did not include their mother among those. I grinned through a few unshed tears at this unexpected opportunity.
"Sure, sweetie. I'll pick you up, of course. We'll find a place close to your campus. I'll get to see where my money's been going for the past three, almost four years, now that you're so close to graduation. Obviously, I'll pay, too. I was going to, anyway, but definitely for one of my girls," I reassured Bunny, who apparently decided to call me in response.
Yes, I noticed my cell phone vibrate and took it up, instinctively knowing it was my eldest daughter on the other end. I was nervous, but I cleared my throat and prepared to talk more about this approaching "date" with my own daughter. I wondered whether she'd tease me for using one of those apps to hunt for girls her age.
"Bunny?" I asked.
"Yes, Daddy... so, when... tonight? I'm free for once. Finals just finished. I'm very likely to graduate in a week now. I have a little playtime available. Surprisingly, I didn't have a place to go tonight. Maybe I'm just out of habit. I was looking for a date, though, of course. I guess I've got one now... and with a very handsome silver fox to boot," she joked.
"Yeah, just refresh and whatever it is you girls do. I'll be there in ninety minutes, tops, depending upon traffic this Friday night," I replied now, "I suppose that I'll hear about it from your mother, but I can honestly tell her that it was you."
"Yes, well, Mom, as much as I love her, needs to learn to stick her nose out of your business. She gave up any right to ask those kinds of questions when she cheated on you and ended her marriage to you. I'll be ready in that time, I swear. I don't know how, but I will. I don't want to make you wait, Daddy," Bunny reassured me, "I love you, Daddy. I'm sorry that we didn't have as much time together when my sisters and I grew up."
"I love you, too, Bunny. I'm sorry, too," I gulped, as I hung up and began preparing for my daughter... a date with my own eldest daughter, no less.
I have never been quite so nervous before a date... not even with her mother.
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