Mr Posh Pensioner

70 years young! Old fashioned gent; 5ft 11; brown hair; hazel eyes; a few extra pounds; fine wine drinker; occasional cigar smoker; executive management; lived in a mansion in Mayfair for past 43 years; well connected; very cultured businessman. 2 dogs; a labrador and a greyhound!
Mr Posh Pensioner's Profile
I am looking for a lively interesting lady who likes to share a good meal and fine wine who likes culture, theatre, art galleries, opera and ballet. Someone who is good company on holidays and who likes to share all the good things in life. I also like racing and have interests in some horses, have a 6 bedroom house in Mayfair and a cottage in the country...I am fit willing and able and like the company of young ladies!
The Emails
From Mr Posh Pensioner
I certainly like your looks and style, all good except F1!
I would peddle up any stream to find you
Fondly...
From Mr Posh Pensioner
I am jetting out to Portugal tomorrow...I would like to get some perfume for you...please advise me of your favourite and I will endeavour to pick up a special gift for you. Please wait for me...don't run away!
Fondly...
From Mr Posh Pensioner
I would like to cordially invite you to accompany me to the Proms in London on the following dates....please have a look on the Royal Albert Hall website and if you feel you would enjoy any or all of the concerts I have suggested, then I would be delighted to take you...in the meantime remember what I said about not running away!!!
Fondly...
The Close but No Cigar Date
So Mr Posh Pensioner invites me to spend the weekend with him at his country cottage...there's talk of luncheon...walking his doggies and relaxing in the countryside. He has a vested interest in a race horse and offers to take me to the stables for a tour! I suggest that I would like to meet up with him first, perhaps in a public place (following the dating websites safety guidelines for a change!!!) to see if we get on. I would like to meet Mr Posh Pensioner as I am intrigued as to why he is interested in dating me...a huge age gap...dirty old pervert or lonely old "young at heart" Gent? He bypasses this idea and continues to tell me what I need to pack and the dress code for the Proms....dinner...and that he must watch the footie on Sunday, other than that he's all mine. He gently drops into the conversation that he has a lovely en suite guest room and that I will be most comfortable. Also, for me to be assured that he will not pressure me into doing anything that I don't want to do! Oh my gawd, is that reverse psychology for I'm going to try to get my leg over with a woman young enough to be my daughter...no make that my grand-daughter!!! Gross campers, I mean Michael Douglas he ain't, because last time I checked he was rocking around with Catherine Zeta Jones, damn! Mr Posh Pensioner also reminds me that he has my perfume...the carrot is being dangled and I am, it seems, the donkey, Eeyore! Reluctantly, I agree to spend the weekend with Mr Posh Pensioner and he insists on collecting me....all very gentlemanly and I guess once on board I'm at his mercy for the weekend...central locking on...make that child safety locks, Grandpa! Once Mr Posh Pensioner is in close proximity I find myself feeling incredibly uneasy about the plans. I cannot get his age out of my head and it just doesn't feel right. Mr Posh Pensioner arrives...parks private number plated Posh Pensioner car and clambers out. I am on all fours in the bathroom eyes at windowsill level, I catch a glimpse of a very old man...he is not 70, he must be nearly 80 this Geezer! Oh no...I simply cannot bring myself to even answer the door. Mr Posh Pensioner has wispy grey hair, spectacles on his nose, he is portly and looks like a dirty old man. Think Peter Stringfellow, add on 20 years, without the thong and the blonde but you're getting the picture. So I don't, I don't answer the door. I'm frozen...slightly sickened. He stands outside perplexed and bewildered and I text him to say I'm very sorry but I cannot do this, entirely my fault and my mistake I say. He texts back saying I have your perfume in my hand what shall I do with it? The carrot has lost it's crunch and appeal. And as I crouch there in my bathroom, on all fours, it dawns on me that Mr Posh Pensioner could easily be mistaken for a confused and bumbling old man clutching on to a bottle of perfume and a dream of a date with much younger woman and do you know I don't feel sorry for him because at his age he really should know better. Still searching and maybe it's time to try a toy boy to balance the dating equilibrium. Mr Right if you're out there and you're reading this come rescue me....