The Awkward Escape Clause Got More Awkward

No, don’t worry, I didn’t sleep with anyone yet still.

But there was a totally unexpected development related to my last posting here, “Dateless Man vs. An Awkward Escape Clause”. To recap, I went over how one of my mother’s friends and former co-workers, a woman in her 60’s named Dee, has harbored a crush on me for ages. I discussed how I feel no chemistry nor any sort of attraction to her physically or mentally (as in, personality). Considering my woeful romantic history and lingering virginity, I theorized that should I ever want to just “get it over with” without shelling out for a trip to either a sexual surrogate clinic or Las Vegas, Dee may have been it. However, a lot of this had been theoretical, me going from events which had happened years prior and picking a topic to write about.

A part of me wondered if I had misunderstood things. Or if I hadn’t, that it had been about 6 or so years since I’d seen Dee and things could have changed. Not that I had changed my own “squick” opinion about the entire affair. But I wondered if more of it had been in my head than reality. It’s typical of men to overestimate women’s sexual desire in them, even unwanted desire. I’ve usually never been like that at all. Usually quite the reverse; I usually assume I’m the lowest ranking man ever on the scale of “fuckability”. Or at least somewhere below Alf but above Hitler’s Literal Corpse.

Well, as “fortune” would have it, Dee ended up calling the apartment that I share with my mother (for economic and health related issues; she’s handicapped). I managed to reach the phone first. And while my conversation with Dee was brief, she left no doubt about her desiring me. In fact if she’d been any blunter about flirting with me, she’d have started quoting lines from porn.

One of the first things she said was, “I forgot how old you sound now,” in an impressed sort of tone. It made me remember that since she was Mom’s co-worker in the 90’s, she first met me as a kid. It further creeped me out a little that she had a crush on me now (and yes, I would feel the same if it was a man lusting after a woman he’d known as a kid, like Dorian Grey). She asked if I was seeing anyone, and mentioned a present she gave me when we’d had dinner (with mom) around the time of one of my birthdays. She’d gotten me a cheap ring (likely a hand me down) that I never wore. Dee said, “Well, you have my ring so I’m yours first,” before later adding, “Make sure to invite me to your wedding so I can cry in the first aisle” or words to that effect.

To say I was shocked was an understatement. My own replies were blunt as I waited for Mom to get on the line. Two or three words max, usually in disbelief. It was very awkward for me, and I could feel my anxiety rise by the moment. Now, as I mentioned in the last post, Dee has always been what some would say is a “liberated” woman. She is merrily promiscuous and prefers younger (white) men. I don’t look down on that out of purity or anything. If I met a woman who I liked who was similar (and I have), that wouldn’t effect my respect for her in the slightest. It just felt very awkward for a woman who I wasn’t into who was as old as my mother being so blunt about crushing on me. Dee has a weird sense of humor and is hardly shy about romantic subjects, so it wasn’t anything deliberate. It was just her nature. That didn’t minimize that brief conversation making me feel odd.

Afterwards, I told mom about it. She wasn’t surprised, but then again I imagine they’ve talked a lot about men over their two decade or so friendship. She knows about Dee’s crush on me and my own lack of interest.

So, let’s sum it up. For the first time in my life, I had a woman talk dirty to me over the phone (or at least come close). I was not only in my 30’s, but it’s a woman almost twice my age who I’m not into in any way, but is a family friend so I am obligated to see more than a stranger. Whenever I have dealt with anyone younger and/or someone I actually am interested in, I always have to read tea leaves or be put in a situation where revealing any desire will come with some measure of pain for somebody. But when it comes to old ladies in nursing homes or friends of relatives, by god they think I am sex on a cracker. And people wonder why I am so romantically frustrated and find this avenue so hopeless. It would be a hilarious comedy if I wasn’t the one living it.

When 2016 started, I thought it might be a pivotal year in terms of my romantic strategies or lack thereof. Maybe I was, once again, looking for a sign of whether any redoubled efforts would be rewarded. Ever since January, I’ve had a lady friend come to me for advice online and to buck up her own esteem from love lost, who later went on blossom after my help to her. I am genuinely happy for her, just disliked being put in a situation where it was either risk upsetting an emotionally fragile woman who just wanted someone to vent to sometimes, or be alone forever again. And then I fell and hurt my knee at the start of the summer, and needed months to recover. Now this. I have the choice for obvious and easy sex with an old woman I don’t desire in any way but clearly has the hots for me, or wait another few months and be an even older male virgin. Aren’t choices fun? Especially whenever it’s always choosing one in which you lose the least?

I got my sign. The universe has spoken. My love life is a miserable, frustrating, underwhelming joke with no good options or prospects. If I were to proceed anyway with any attempt, it would have to fly in the face of every blunt sign that reality is telling me. There is not one reason why I should feel confident in having any better success than when I was younger and could rely more on youth and proximity. This incident was just another straw in my Underwhelming Haystack of Love. The Magic 8-Ball has once again told me, “ALL SIGNS POINT TO NO”.

I’m not saying I’m giving up, even though I probably functionally have for a long time. I’m more experienced now, and I think I talk to strangers better due to the job I’ve had for years. I know at least intellectually that I’m not the absolute worst out there. I have had many people buck me up online on this blog, which is appreciated. But I realize now that in doing so, I would have to be prepared to act against all logic. In this, trying to actually make a love life happen, I would have to hammer a square peg into a round hole. I would have to reject every single sign the universe has sent me and go, “I think I can anyway”. I either have to have the determination of a super-soldier or the stubborn delusion of a hopeless romantic masochist. I don’t know if I have either in me.

I have no intention of taking up Dee on her “offer”. I’m just not into her in any way. I am not so desperate to lose my virginity that I am willing to try to sleep with an old woman who has a fetish for me who I am not interested in either physically or intellectually. That’s either a sign of integrity or a sign I simply don’t want to lose my virginity as badly as some others. Either way it means the same thing. Bars don’t hold “wet integrity contests”, after all. But as we near the later end of the year, with another birthday on the horizon for me, I have to look at my options and status honestly. I am woefully behind schedule in terms of romantic experience. I will have to work 50 times as hard to get half as much as the average person got when they were 15. I do not have youth or proximity on my side. I have no distinct advantage when compared to almostĀ any other man. Apparently only old ladies think I am worth touching. A shame I have no desire to be a nursing home gigolo.

These are really the only options I’ll ever have. Whatever is in me is really all I will ever have to work with. I’ll have to be prepared to work against the grain of every instinct I have, every sign the world around me has shown me, and without any positive reinforcement. And all that just to, what, get a second date? In a more competitive market, with so many disadvantages? There’s an element of luck and chance in these affairs, and I’ve never had it. I’ve followed the “just pursue your passions and someone will come along” advice for much of my life, and clearly that has never happened.

There is more to life than relationships. There are more things I can do besides find a lover. There are more things to enjoy than sexual relations. It may have been a brief and very awkward telephone conversation, but it certainly has sparked a lot of thought. Thanks for reading, everyone!

 

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