Picture this scene in your mind. I am in my car driving to my favorite hideaway with my newest lady seated next to me. One hand is on the wheel while the other gently caresses her fingers. She is all smiles and her eyes are wide and glistening with anticipation.

Upon our arrival I park the car and switch off the engine. I then turn in my seat to face her and as I look deeply in her eyes I speak the words burning in my heart. "Do you have some form of ID to prove your age?"

A mood breaker? No, an act of self preservation. Have I actually done that? No, but I should have. For you see I had a curse.

Not a joke, but a fact. This is how my curse worked. If I happened to meet an attractive personable female and the attraction was undeniable for both parties, my curse was that 98% of the time the female was usually 16 years of age.

How I attracted them I do not know. Maybe it's due to the fact that throughout early to mid 20's I never looked my age, and according to some I never acted it either. Maybe it's because of the time I spent in the presence of these ladies I didn't drone on about sports or cars or make lame sex jokes. In fact I didn't drone on about much because despite all my theatrical bravado I was shy.

Now I am not talking about the attractions of giggly little pre-teens experiencing their first case of puppy love. The females I attracted by looks, dress, speech and mannerisms could have easily passed for someone 18 years of age or older and they all were well versed in the art of lovemaking.

Now I had heard all the horror stories of the trouble that befalls men for manhandling those lovelies under 18 since the day I turned 16, and I did not wish to share their punishment. Consequently I was always very cautious.

Here is one example of the curse at work. It occurred when I was out riding on a beautiful summer day.

So here I am stopped at a stop sign to allow the cross traffic to pass when a very attractive female head pops up from behind the shrubbery on my right hand side.

"Wow, nice Harley."

I thank her.

"So, what's a girl gotta do to get a ride?"

 "All the girl gotta do is come out from behind those bushes."

She does and I am stunned as she is wearing the uniform of the Catholic Jr High school that is about two blocks away.

"How old are you?" I ask.

"I'm 15, is that a problem?"

"Yes, it's a problem! I am old enough to be your father."

As I pull away I look in my mirror to see her give me the middle finger salute. Similar incidents happened to me quite frequently. Like I said, it's a curse. I had been fooled only a few times before I developed a line of innocent sounding questions designed to ferret out true age, because it seems that no lady will willingly reveal it.

My curse reared its head at wedding reception twice where I attracted the attentions of a couple of dark haired lovely. One didn't flirt at all. We shared a few shots and a couple of slow dances and she met me by my van and we almost rocked the body of the frame. It was in a conversation with her father that I was informed that she had just turned 16.

About a year later another one flirted with me throughout the cocktail hour and then dinner and I was interested, but wary so I kept a watch. This time I saw her consuming alcohol and smoking in the presence of older adults so I surmised she was at least 21 years of age. She delivered a song request from the bridal party and then stayed with me at the counsel.

After putting the song on I casually mention (in a lame attempt to break the ice) that I remember buying an 8-track tape just to have this one particular number. Her smile remained, but she gave me a blank stare.

"Do you have any idea what an 8-track is?" I questioned.

She shook her head, and then I figured I was entitled to ask the forbidden age question.

"How old are you?"

"I'm 16. How old are you?"

"I'm 27 years old." 

"Wow, you don't look it."

"Like I said, it's a curse."

It was during the haunted house project that the curse really started. The incidents at wedding receptions came many years later. To continue: I remember Bunny, my stunning blond co-chairperson from the project told me that I better start carding girls at my bedroom door. It seems she heard from a reliable source that my newest girlfriend had not been 100% honest with me about her age, so I decided to question her. It went something like this.

"Rin, how old are you?"

"I'm 17."

"How old?" I asked assuming the first response was a fib.

"OK, I'm 16."

"Are you sure?," giving her the 'I'm-not-convinced' look.

"Well, I'm gonna be 16, in a few months."

Are you insane? Do you know how old I am?

And as always I got the same responses that I had gotten dozens of time by different would be girlfriends: "I don't care" or "So what's the big deal?" My usual response was the standard rote of "15 will get you 20", which refers to the jail time handed out if convicted. 

Thankfully she soon became attracted to male volunteer that was her age and I was happy for both of them.

It was sometime later that week I met "Taz" when she showed up to volunteer for the project. She wore a dress that accentuated her tall and long-legged frame and heels that made her almost as tall as I was. First point awarded — she did not dress like a teenager. Her flaming red hair and pale complexion were striking and I was so stunned by the overall combination that I was unable to find speech for a few seconds.

I gave her the standard what is expected of volunteers speech and her responses to the questions I posed were clear and concise. Second point awarded — she did not sound like a teenager. Her questions to me were in a clear and concise fashion and void of giggles and normal teen syntax of the time. Well, she passed the initial line of questioning. I then asked her about school, and if would this interfere. She stated that she was finished with school, and I was overjoyed. Third point awarded. Finally someone nearer to my age.
 
During the construction phase we became fast friends and my attraction to Taz and hers to me grew stronger everyday. We began to see each other on a regular basis away from the project and she was comfortable enough around me and I was soon introduced to her father, stepmother, brother and grandma. Grandma liked me but her brother did not. Such is life.

Now it happened sometime after our first physical encounter. We had ignored the undeniable urge for far too long and fireworks, bells and whistles were felt by both of us. For reasons unknown the subject of age came up as a topic for our pillow talk and she revealed that she was only 17.

Well, that's not too bad I reasoned. She then added that she had been 17 for the last couple of years. Great, just bloody great.

She explained her non traditional upbringing and how at 12 years of age she was taking care of her family by cooking, cleaning and washing. She held her first job at 13 years of age and only got the job because she lied about her age and didn't present herself as a kid to the employer.

My sense of self preservation was screaming at me to run away, but it was too late. I was absolutely captivated by her and we continued to see each other on a regular basis. When the house closed and I took a job that kept me out of town for about three months I eagerly looked forward to and answered her letters. Upon returning home, we could not see enough of each other.

When we were together no one ever questioned her about her age, so I never volunteered any information. Though our personal lives took us in different directions, we have remained friend to this day.