Being single is not an easy task. Not that there aren’t advantages, there are. I have no idea why other men my age, who are married, think that it is okay to ask me the most intimate details of my love life, but they do. Part of it I realize is the chance to live through someone else, vicariously. Part of it is sheer jealousy. But most of it, I think, is that they will hope that I’ll convince them that they have it better than I.
Recently, a guy I work with really pressed the issue. He stated that so many women come on to him in grocery stores that I must have it made. Bear in mind that this guy has all the appeal of horse dung. My mouth just kind of dropped open as we were driving to a meeting in Boston for our place of employment. I have never dated anyone I met at a grocery store. Laundromats yes, groceries stores, no. And I should have said “Laundromat” because that only happened once.
Now, please trust me on this point. I could have told him a ton of true stories that would make his life and thirty-five year marriage seem pointless. I always resist that temptation. Partly, because I have a lot more class than that, but ultimately because he would never stop trying to get me to tell more stories. To say nothing of the fact, that all of it was none of his damn business.
All this may sound odd if you believe guys like to “brag” about their conquests. If you thought that you have probably been married about twenty years. Dating in your adult years has almost nothing in common with dating in your twenties. You are probably not looking for someone to raise your kids. You do not care much about each other’s past, either. I know they made a movie about a 40 Year-Old Virgin, but shockingly enough that was in a movie. When it comes to sex it isn’t about whether or not, at my age. It is all about compatibility. You have to actually like doing the same things. I do not care how “hot” a woman is if the sex sucks.
I remember once years ago having that very conversation with an attractive woman I had begun dating. She and I had been entirely on different pages, sexually speaking. She asked some questions. I answered. “Let’s try this,” she said. It began. It did not last long. Somehow she had forgotten that her seven-year-old had not fallen asleep yet. Surprise! That scene did me in. It would be our last date.
Now back to this guy on this car ride would not stop. So I finally asked, “Would you really want to know what is so much better about being single than being married?” I looked over at this idiot. “Yes, please!” he stammered. “You are sure you can handle this?” I continued. He simply nodded. “Here is the answer,” I stated, “I can watch both football games on Sundays and no one tells me to turn it off and do some chore.” His look of utter disappointment meant that I had accomplished my task. I didn’t bother to tell him that I don’t like football enough to watch two games on Sunday.