The Cat Daddy Experience

I’ll never forget my twenty-first birthday. I get a call from Andrea at around 11:30pm the night before my big day. “Get dressed Hoe! I’m taking you out for a drink. Anywhere you wanna go!” Didn’t take me long because I knew the exact place. “Take me to the GREEN HORSE!” I could feel from her silence that she either had no intentions of ever stepping foot into that place or she had no idea what I was talking about. I, on the other hand, had been curious about those neon lights and that life-sized green horse positioned right at the front gate for years. I was losing my mind with excitement. Only twenty-five minutes to step into adulthood and look extra good doing it. I now laugh at my childish idea of adult life.

So BOOM. Drea picked me up in her brand new Volkswagen Beetle. I couldn’t even speak I was so exhilarated. I’m finally gonna get a peek inside! I walked slowly while fumbling around in my purse. I just knew there would be some ginormous ass security guard ready to toss me in the street if I didn’t have my identification ready to be examined. I used to watch way too much tv. As you probably already guessed, no one was there to greet us at the door. My heavy handed ass swung the wood door open with all my might. Six sets of eyes glared at us as if I’d just disturbed everyone’s peace. Talk about embarrassing…but I couldn’t focus on that. The decor had my full attention. Distressed black leather couches placed in the oddest locations. Bar stools of different heights cluttered the bar area. A modern looking jukebox was giving off the majority of the light in the entire building. Rick James was blaring through the speakers. This isn’t at all what I imagined as a nine year old passing by this place. Oh well. No time for disappointment. All I can think about is the drink I was promised. “Whatchu want?” No hello, no ID check. By this time my license had added new grooves into my palm. “Uhhh…can I have…ugh uhh…” I had no idea what to order. Here comes that nervous sweat starting at my temples. “Lets try two vodka-sprites with cherries please”. Drea was always the leader. Even in Junior High. I gave the bartender a huge smile. She gave me a cold eye-roll in return. This was not at all how my first legal drink was supposed to go. Soon after, a voice spoke out over Charlie Wilson. “Hey. Put those on my tab”. Andrea and I both shifted to our left. A man who resembled Richard Pryor gave us a wink. We politely smiled, but on the inside I prayed Mr. Pryor didn’t want to hold a conversation. He didn’t. But his friend, an older resemblance of Wesley Snipes, chimed in on his behalf. “Well hello there, lovelies. You know you just made our night! Never seen you two in here before…” I was frozen solid. There were seats available next to them, but did we really need to go over there? I had no clue what to say to a man that was clearly three times my age. Drea never even looked back to see if I was still alive. She headed right over to Papa Snipes and flopped down on the bar stool. I slowly approached the Richard lookalike hoping a simple ‘Thank you for the drink’ would hold him over for the entire evening. Thank God Drea and the other guy did all the talking. Richard and I laughed occasionally and babysat out cocktails. Nothing important happened during that geriatric ass conversation, but two drinks in, Papa Pryor finally spoke up. “We should go grab something to eat. I know where we can get a great steak dinner this time of night”. Drea yelled, “You do? Where?” Large Kool-Aide smiles spread across the men’s faces. “Just follow us. Where are you parked?” I knew something was up. Andrea was never that friendly. Not even to people she knew well. But when she grabbed her purse and jumped down from the barstool, I knew it was in my best interest to follow her lead.

Our new friends were parked just two cars ahead of us. “Make a U-turn and just follow me,” the Richard Pryor comparison called out. Drea started her engine. Before I could even get a word in, Drea whispered “watch this” as if it was more than us two in the car. We were right behind their Cadillac sedan at the first stoplight after our hasty U-turn. When the light turned green and the gray Caddy coasted up Centinela Avenue, Drea abruptly made a right turn onto Eucalyptus Avenue. If anyone was nearby, all they heard was tires screeching and girls screaming with laughter! We zigzagged through the neighborhood just in case the old timers were on to us. That was such a pivotal time in my life. From then on, I associated older men with steak dinners and dick. Shame on me, I know. I just didn’t believe there was some after hour steak joint in L.A. Now if we were in Las Vegas, this would be a different story.

Fast forward a hundred years, and I’m now what they call a Geriatric Millennial. I don’t feel quite the same way about older men. The ones I’ve encountered have actually been so gracious and gentlemanly. But in my opinion, these men aren’t Cat Daddies. By definition a cat daddy is a cool old man over fifty who loves a lot of younger women. These older men friends that I’ve made over the years definitely lack one or more of these descriptive traits. Feasting my eyes on a true cat daddy didn’t happen for me until this year. Let me fill you in on Howard. He never fessed up to his actual age, though he knew I was thirty-eight. Because of his brand new fire engine red Corvette, full gray beard, and the raspy texture in his voice, I ranged him between fifty-five and fifty-eight. “Close enough” is the only response I’ve gotten out of Howard. He’s the life of the party everywhere he goes. The night we met, he demanded I order anything I wanted while we were sitting next to each other. This was said to me even before we exchanged names. There were a few other women on his tab as well. I noticed younger women pointing in his direction all night. I took a quick glance at the bill one of the bartenders handed him. $362.85. This is a regular bar with seventeen dollar drinks just to give you a little backstory. He charged the total and left a one hundred dollar bill as a tip. I later found out that the bartender was “a good friend of his”. He’s generous like this to most of the ladies at the places he frequents. By now, I’m sure you know my background, so no. This doesn’t bother me at all. I’m just taking notes for when my time comes.

We take a ride in his Roadster through Santa Monica to discuss our first date. “My homeboy asked if we had sex yet. I told him no because I think she really wants a baby”. Howard didn’t look at me. His eyes were glued to the front windshield while his right hand gripped the bottom of the steering wheel. Strike One: I can care less about an exotic meal by the beach and a live band that played a short set just for me. Why do these men, at any age, think pussy is so cheap? He should definitely be glad he wasn't facing me. My nose was all the way turned up. Or maybe I should be glad. My facial expression was worth getting put out the car. And then, who told him I wanted a baby? I rolled my eyes before saying “If I wanted a baby, I would’ve had one a long time ago…” Howard finally faced me with the cheesiest grin on his face. That smile soon dropped when I finished with “I’m looking for a husband. Not a baby father”. He eventually straightened up. “You know what? That’s a good way to be. You sound a little like my Auntie. She don’t play when it comes down to these niggas either”. You damn right, I don’t. But I see Howard is down to play as long as there’s a willing participant.

Our third date was very lack luster. Another live band over chicken wings and a side of beans and rice. Ohh and let me not forget. Another side of indecisiveness from Howard. “I mean…I can’t say that I want to get married again or not…uhhh maybe…I do know I don’t want to die alone…” He drifts for a second. “My dad told me ‘you better get you wife while you still have the option’. But he still cheated, so…” I turned my head back towards the band. I didn’t want him to see me mumble “What a fuckin’ waste”. The best thing for me to do was yell Christmas carols along with the house singer. The countdown was on anyway. Those red beans were definitely gonna give me gas in the next thirty minutes. We had out first kiss that night after he walked me to my car. “What am I going to do with you?” Howard backed away from me after forming the question. “Shhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiddddddddd, I don’t know. But I can tell you don’t want to do right”. We both laughed, but I’m sure for different reasons.

We both knew this was the end, but for some reason Howard wanted to try me one last time. We met at a bar that I love. He only loves the bartender at this spot. Howard intended on getting me drunk but that was never going to happen with these watered down L.A. drinks. Once I caught wind of what was supposed to happen, I decided to waste his money even more. I order drinks just to hand them off to the people near me. The two girls to my left had a great time on Howard’s dime. Remember, I’m a little like his Auntie. Howard stumbled out of the club and over to one of my favorite taco trucks. I order two burritos and a large horchata. I wanted food for that night and the next. I don’t know what he ordered. I just know the bill came to thirty-eight dollars even. I felt bad as we approached our cars so I decided to follow Howard home. He was the amount of drunk that he wanted me to be. Neither one of us should’ve been driving, but we made it safely to Baldwin Hills. I sat Indian style on his couch and proceeded to devour my first burrito when a sickening sight appeared in front of me. Howard was pantless with his sweater and long t-shirt still on. I didn’t want to look down but I couldn't help myself! I didn’t spot a dick but something even odder. The skin on Howard’s legs looked like it was about ready to fall off the bone. Maybe I was actually drunk because I could have sworn his legs were still shaking as he stood still in front of me! I wanted to reach out and touch it. See if my finger would sink into his shapeless thigh. I delicately wrapped my burrito back in the foil and dipped! No words were exchanged. I couldn’t even finish my food once I got home. I sat in my bed trying to figure out what the fuck I had just seen.

I woke up to a phone call from Howard. He’s never called me before. Our only communication had been through text up until this point. “Hey beautiful. I just wanted to check in. And you know, make sure you’re good”. There was a long pause. I wasn’t sure if he was done. “Yeah Howard, I’m fine”. I kept it short cause I really wanted to get back to my food in the fridge. “Okay, because you just left. I…” I had to cut in on him. “I was uncomfortable but maybe you couldn’t tell cause it was kinda dark. It was best I leave.” Another long pause. “Okay, I get it. But we’re good right?” I didn’t know how to answer that question, so I lied. “Yep. All good”. Howard started back up talking about going to watch a game somewhere but I tuned out. I eventually got him off the phone by saying I had another call. We never talked again. No call, no text, NOTHING. I know he was glad to get rid of me right before Christmas. And if I'm being honest, it’s best he stays gone. We don’t want the same things and I’m not willing to compromise on it. He’ll be back though. One thing about me: They always come crying back. Please tell me I’m not the only asshole out here duckin’ the AARP members? Are the cat daddies really just steak dinners and dick to you too or did I miss something? Hit me up at jualeeah@jualeeworld.com or jualeeworld@yahoo.com Fill me in PLEASE!