Marcus and I are drinking coffee at Harvard Square on a Sunday afternoon just before Christmas. Ok, I’m drinking enough coffee for both of us, and he’s regaling me with stories from academia. My friend Marcus is an actual working poet, and teaches college English. I’m sort of amazed by that life, and by the way twenty-two-year-old Marcus knew he was going to be a poet and an academic, and how he’s made that happen. I’d tell Marcus how completely impressed I am by that, but I’m way too involved in this story about professor/student romance.
“What is it with younger women and older men?” Marcus asks me. “Why does it always work out that way, and never the other way?”
“Do you really want to know?” I asked. “Fine, but you can’t be mad at me. It’s just that men mature so much more slowly than women. We have to date someone older so you guys have time to catch up.”
“It’s all about maturity then?”
“It is.”
“Go play your videogames, woman.”
