Dating In Your 30s Memes Novels & Stories

Jacques, constantly traveling for work and swamped with responsibilities. “If you and Mr. Jacques actually hit it off, then give it a real shot. Spend time together, get to know each other, and if it works out, get married. Don’t drag it out too long. You’re almost thirty.” “It’s different for women. A man in his thirties is still in his prime, but once a woman hits thirty, people start calling her an old maid.” Rosalie patted her own face. “Hey, do I look like an old maid to you? If I dressed in something youthful, people would probably mistake me for a teenager!”

"Don't need a blind date? Then find someone on your own!" "I don't care who. Any woman will do." "Tall, short, plump, skinny. Gentle, lively, twenty, thirty — hell, if you want someone sixty, I'll accept it!" "Mom." Adrian frowned. Vivian glared at him, her stance absolute. "This is not up for discussion." "You're pushing forty. Keep this up and you'll be an unwanted, overripe cucumber." The "overripe cucumber" — thirty years old by Western count, thirty-one by Chinese — had clearly grown accustomed to Mrs. Cross's creative rounding methods.

he asks jokingly “Keep it up, old man,” I throw at him, smiling. “Ugh. I’m not even that old you little shit,” he says he grumbles. He saunters over to my large arms chair and plops into it. “You are in your 30s,” “I am thirty. Not in them, still technically just outside of them,” he defends himself. “You go to bed at eight when we don’t have shows,” I say. “Yeah, well, I’m tired,”

Mike’s friends were always lighthearted, but the age jokes never seemed to fade. Another one of them chimed in, rubbing his chin. “Yeah, seriously. I mean, look at us! We’re the same age as you, and we’ve got grey hairs and wrinkles. What’s your secret? Marrying a young woman?” Mike chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s not the age, it’s the lifestyle, gentlemen.” I smirked, deciding to join in on the fun. “Well, maybe you all should consider marrying younger women too. It seems to be doing wonders for Mike,” I teased, winking at them.

She was also tall, but I was way taller than her. “So, you’re dating someone?” She lifted her chin to look at me. “Stop it.” “Why? I’d been married and divorced. You, on the other hand, your friends are married, and you’re still single. You’re thirty, Gabe.” “What’s wrong? I can get married at forty,” I quipped dryly. She sighed loudly.

“Seems some of your friends never left high school.” “I’d say we’re more like the immature residents of a frat house,” Damien said as he slid up to Valerie’s other side, turning and leaning back against the waist-high wall. A playful grin decorated his lips as he glanced over at her, one hand shoved into his front pocket, and the other holding onto his drink. “Those were some carefree, crazy-ass days. Why wouldn’t we want to relive them?” “I would think as you neared thirty, you’d be past the need to gawk at a woman changing clothes in a dressing room,” she said, disdain dripping from every word. “Seems kind of childish to me.”

Jace sensed my confusion, “Your brother mentioned it in passing.” “Ah.” I nodded gently, “No wonder.” “Here.” “Thank you.” Silence filled the air for a little while and then he cleared his throat. “This isn't a date but it's a start. I'm hoping tomorrow we start our 30 days of dating properly.” “30 days of dating? Wait— what?” “Just kidding.” His lips were cornered. “I meant 30 days of going on a date. Today was meant to calm your mind a little. You know… from the whole school thing with the principal.”

He shared tales from the office—Marlena’s dry wit, a spreadsheet that refused to save, a board member who accidentally sent a meme to the whole company. “Wait, wait, wait,” Minnie laughed, nearly choking on her sparkling lemonade. “He sent what?” “A cat meme,” Ethan said, grinning. “Except it wasn’t a cat. It was a man in a cat suit licking a popsicle. And the caption said, ‘Mondays got me like.’” She wheezed. “You’re lying.” “I wish I was.” They laughed until their stomachs hurt. Later, as he walked her to her apartment building, the mood shifted—softer, quieter.

“she’s right. Smexy billionaire gorgeousness will be almost impossible to compete with.” “You’re young and you’re hot-“ Sana started. “I’m thirty two.” I cut in. She glared at me over the top of her glass. “as I said, you’re hot and going. You can date anybody from age twenty two to forty five.” “Twenty two?” I made a face. “I’ve had sex with a twenty three year old. Honestly, it made the list of the top ten hottest sexual experiences I’ve ever had.” Charlie said. “he was unstoppable I tell you. Almost ruined me for other men. Almost.”

“It is not too late for everything. A 27 year-old man became a CEO then died at 50. A 50 year-old man became a CEO and died at 90. Do you know that saying?” “I think I saw that in a meme somewhere.” “Anyway, what I mean is… everyone has different timeline.” “I also read that phrase in internet.” “So to make it short, there is no late in falling in love.” I always said that falling in this age is too late. But here I am, saying the opposite things to others. How hypocrite. “Well, Actually, there’s a girl I am so interested with,” he whispered in shy tone. If he already likes someone, why did he bother dating different women? He’s quite dumb, isn’t he?