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Maybe we can blame it on the “PILL”

November 5, 2012

I walked up to a table at Coffee Roasting this morning that was cluttered with a bunch of my buddies who were all grumbling about the same, one, thing, women. These guys are all in their sixties, all are divorced, all had kids, all are homeowners. None of them are ugly or disfigured, none of them are impoverished, none of them are ill groomed or foul smelling, probably none of them have IQ’s less than 140 or 160 and I would guess if there was some sort of “social relations” competency measure, these guys would all be above the 60th or 70th percentile. And as well as all of these common characteristics, they all have one common beef, single, older women.

About a month ago I was doing business with a lady I’ve known for more than a couple of years who is not one of our well off, Los Gatos “high society” beauties that can be so aloof and untouchable. She is a shop keeper and an accountant. Her and her husband have two kids and live on one of the last rural patches of Los Gatos hill land, where they raise chickens and collect honey from a couple of their own bee hives. I was buying some office supplies from her and we were asking each other about mutual friends not seen for awhile. The topic of conversation turned to relations between the sexes. She happened to mention that if wasn’t for the current good standing of her marriage, she couldn’t see any reason to get involved with another man for the rest of her life. She had her farm, her kids and her shop, what else did she need? Though she said this rather off-handedly, the observation took me aback. I asked her to clarify and she told me had a just read in some lady’s magazine that a study had been done that claimed the “happiest” people in our society were single, older women. And who were the most “unhappy” people, single older men. This left me agape.

My Sunday morning philosophers at Coffee Roasting were right on target. While I was married and divorced by the time I was 24, I never had any kids. I’ve never owned real estate, I’ve never owned a brand new car and I have really long hair so I don’t really feel like I totally, perfectly fit into this bunch of grumbling old guys, but I do know they mean and I sympathize. And, as well, unlike this bunch, I don’t have the income to go around and casually take a woman out on a date a couple of times a week. My dates are very, very far and few between. When I do ask someone out, I have done my homework, believe me. And what is the homework? Observation.

In our social circle here in town, there is a group of “older, single women” (should I invent a new, three letter acronym – OSW?) who, frankly, astonish this simple minded, old fashioned farm boy. To keep it in the simplest terms, the old guys will ask one of these women out, him thinking he is “taking her out” but once they hit the streets, the female simply treats the guy as some servile escort. So many times I see these guys walk into a restaurant or party and no sooner does the female get her coat off than she is charming every guy in the place except for her “date” who is left sitting next to an empty chair, feeling so foolish and obvious. Once done getting her ego massaged at this place, she will ask the escort to give her his arm and take take her to another ego massage parlor further on down the street. At the end of the night she will shake his hand and slam her door in his face. And in the morning he grumbles.

These males will fix these OSW’s cars, computers and chandeliers, with the lady asking him to hurry it up as she has to get ready for a date with some other new guy this evening. The guy doing the fixing will get pissed off, but in two or three months, he gives in to desperate hope and extreme loneliness and asks her out again, thinking she may have changed in some way, rectifying her rude and careless manner. But it never happens. Why should it? she is good looking, somewhat charming and she will always find some guy to be her eunuch for a few hours. And all too seldom will she even bother to offer so much as a ham sandwich for his trouble fixing her car, computer or chandelier.

As I think about this, it makes me feel as though this sort of women see men in a collective, general sense as their surrogate husband, a few reliable old souls who will keep the coffee maker and the toaster in working order while the lady gets ready to go out for another night full of dancing and drinking and flirting.

It is not as though we are living on different planets. There are certain social conventions that both sexes must be aware of, especially when the word “older” is part of the description of the social interaction participants. I mean, when you are called “old” I think we can assume that this participant has had numerous exposures to most, normal, simple social situations. The concept of “going out” or being on a “date” should have some basic, elemental parameters that all parties can agree upon, like mutual loyalty during the encounter. To my mind, you go on dates to get to know one another, find out what makes the other person tick and see if that works. During this encounter we should attempt to expand the exploration of the other person. When your date leaves you sitting next to an empty chair, that “exploration,” the expansion of knowledge about the other, is pretty hard to achieve. Plus, leaving a guy high and dry is just damn, plain rude, . . . at least. I can’t believe this is decent behavior in anyone’s book, no matter what planet you’re from. But, that’s my opinion.

And, as well, if a woman is perfectly satisfied with her kids, her farm and her job and has no interest in involving herself with another man for the rest of her life, it seems only fair that she make this perspective known, right from the outset. The suitor may be searching for a partner to finish out the rest of his life with, so if there is no possibility of such a situation, let him continue on his search without the frustration and humiliation of being toyed with. I can see no reason to expect, at least, that much honesty.

The singer/songwriter, Tracy Chapman, has a song in which she tells her erstwhile lover,

“this youthful heart can love you, and give you what you need

but I’m too old to go chasing you around, wasting my precious energy”

(from “Give me one reason,” by Tracy Chapman,

it’s a really good song,

click here to see a YouTube video)

I know I wouldn’t mind having someone to share my time with, but I do do my homework; observe. For whatever reasons, I’ve lived pretty much alone for a long time, I know how to do it. I may not like it, but I can do it without too much discomfort. However, I refuse to be toyed with or be disrespected. I’ve watched a certain clutch of females treat this bunch of grumblers in ways I want no part of and I’ve never asked any of them to go out with me. I would rather operate alone.

Not quite a year ago I met a lady who, though I’d seen her around town, I didn’t know at all. For a reasonable time we would casually chat as we bumped into one another, we did the little exploration thing. With these chats I found that, besides being a extremely good looking woman, she was a very modest, decent, well balanced and grounded person. What do you know? So much good stuff in one little package, and she didn’t seem to mind all my foibles and flaws.

I finally asked her to join me at a party me and some friends were hosting. She arrived in a timely manner, looking especially hot, and for the entire evening, she sat right next to me and we did lots more exploring, it was great. However, all through the night, the wolves were circling around, waiting for an opening. Every single guy at this large party came up to me and asked to be introduced. I presented each and everyone of them to my new friend. Then they all hung around, attempting to despoil me. This was the test.

As the guys just got outright blatent about what a bad catch I was, one of them had to add that I had all this long, stupid hair. My date stopped the chatter and looked at me full face. Then she told them all that she loved my long hair as she hugged me real strong and big and ran her fingers through all of my stupid hair.

The guys all groaned and turned away, leaving us alone for the rest of the night. Holy Toledo, good looks, a stable nature and now, I discovered, more class than just about anyone else in the whole damn world. Wow!!

Critics might tell me that the grumblers should wait for the right woman and not waste their time on these fickle women just to complain about them. And besides, there are men that are just the same. There are tables of women who grumble about certain fickle men. I don’t go out with single, older men, so I guess that is probably true.

But, . . . there is that survey the shopkeeper/accountant told me about?





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