Is a Late Bloomer Allowed Bad Choices…even if on Purpose?

Once again a month has gone by without another installment from the Dateless-Man. It seems to commonly happen around the summer for various reasons; I’d been faithful about typing up at least one post a month since July 2018, when I’d missed that June. Granted, that was also the month where things regarding my still unresolved eviction battle with the slumlord started to hit full steam. I am pleased to see so many new readers are checking out what I usually dub “My Lonely Man Blog.” While most of you are from the United States, WordPress’ tabulators are detecting hits from Canada, the U.K. and even India! I guess it shows that some of the issues I have are truly universal for some men, and people in general. Anyway, we’re more than midway past August so I’d better whip something up now!

As much as it is difficult to focus much on my love life, or examining my endless lack of it, with the specter of homelessness hanging over my head, this time I really do have something which broaches the topic of the blog that I’d like to get off my chest.

In terms of lady-themed updates, there isn’t much. The co-worker I’d chatted with who was “my type” who naturally I didn’t mix work and pleasure with from February has long since been let go by the company I work for, so I never saw her again. Not that it is wise to try to date co-workers, even for experienced daters, but it certainly is worth noting how fleeting interactions can be between us sometimes — even more so than college peers used to be. The only good thing to come out of my current crisis regarding housing is some of the lady associates I’d made over the years got back in some online contact with me again. One of them has included “Carrie,” one of my pals’ exes, who I haven’t blogged about since 2017. There are some pangs of this time, finally, having some stones and asking her out, but c’mon. We all know I won’t. By this point it’s been so long it would make her question my entire friendship with her, at least so I fear. Admittedly, since I fear my economic life coming to an end more than ever, there’s a sense of desperation to it which is unpleasant. Another associate is a woman I’d barely met in real life but who has touched base via social media who fancies my comic book articles that I write for another website. We get along well, but she has a boyfriend. Kind of a shame, but I enjoy our chats regardless. It’s fun to talk “geek stuff” with someone new.

(And for those curious, I hadn’t chatted with the young lady from Italy from “The Kink Panther” since January. Considering she was less than honest about her age and was far younger than she’d initially led me to believe, it’s for the best. I wish her well, though.)

But no, what I want to delve into involves something which happened over the spring which I’ve chewed on ever since. I’ve mentioned the Doctor Nerdlove website and community a few times; I even once called into his podcast. While I was banned from his main message board, I still post sporadically on an unofficial sister forum run by some of his fans and associates. I was engaged in some private messages with a woman who was shocked that I’d been banned and over the last year and change we’d kept in touch. Unfortunately, our differing opinions on dating philosophies and techniques were often a point of contention, often on my part. That combined with all of the stress and pressure going on got me to issue some replies which were a bit off the deep end, and she’s severed contact for about 4 months now. I apologized but I hardly blame her.

Our last bit of contention centered around a discussion which devolved from what were acceptable standards from a lover and whether I could, should, or would reject someone who was physically “my type” and was “into” me based on personality flaws or other factors. I consider myself an extremely flexible person; I am willing to indulge and accept virtually any political opinion, job, hobby, or so on that a woman might be into. I try to understand other people and their points of view, and practice empathy whenever possible. Plus, I am very aware that I am essentially seeking a woman who doesn’t mind dating an older male virgin who isn’t especially tall or buff, and who is usually flat broke. She’d have to be extremely open minded and not prone to harsh or immediate judgement, to say the least, so it’s only fair that I practice in kind.

The discussion spoke of immediate “deal breakers” beside physical stuff, which I am also very flexible regarding, and I stated that few seemed to exist for me. The worst example I could come up with for a woman whose views were the polar opposite of mine would be someone who was a “MAGA, Pro-Trump Neo-Nazi” type. Which in New York is pretty rare but not outside the realm of possibility. I professed that my general temperament and opinions would usually repel those types, but when given the theoretical example of a woman who was physically “my type” who professed those views yet was still coming onto me and wanted to date me, I stated I’d be willing to do so, knowing it wouldn’t last but not being able or willing to pass up the opportunity. This apparently appalled the person I was talking with, especially since I also had the misfortune to lump this example with “a drug addict” or someone associated with organized crime or a street gang.

Things got worse when I stated that plenty of people, men and women, who have more “normal” dating lives than an older male virgin often had at least more than one lover, if not more, who they knew to be “a dumpster fire personality” either later on or even at the time. If it was okay for them to have such lovers in their past, why was it wrong for me to be willing to give such a person a chance if the opportunity arose and she didn’t repulse me physically, specifically knowing going in that it wouldn’t last long.

In immediate hindsight, I saw how this argument came off as entitled, and that professing a willingness to sleep with a Neo-Nazi who was in so many words hot enough for me just for sheer experience is a bad look to project. The thing is, was I in the wrong for having it, or admitting it? I’ve known many men who eagerly admitted to being willing to date “someone crazy” over looks alone.

The point I was trying to get across, though, was whether or not I have the “right” to accept whatever romantic opportunities come my way, even if they are with someone who may be physically “my type” but otherwise is a “dumpster fire” personality just for the sheer sake of having never had ANY of the sort of relationships or “trying things out” that most people have? Or because I don’t have the “excuse” of youth, I therefore should only date people who match with my moral code and ethics perfectly? Where do I draw the line? I don’t smoke, for one; am I a cad if I rejected a chain smoker? Or would I be a monster if a woman who worked for big tobacco and laughed at all the cancer claims came onto me, and I agreed to a date with her?

Ideally, quality should always come before quantity. But in real life we don’t always face such clear cut choices, and some of us are lucky to get what we can get. It is beyond obvious that I am not going to have many lovers in my life, if any, and I probably should choose carefully just who I reject if and when the occasion arises very carefully, because I know the opportunity may never come again. I just wonder where the line is between being too open minded or too eager or desperate. I suppose that line should be anyone who makes me uncomfortable, and in theory someone who was otherwise physically attractive but was a Neo-Nazi or a corporate shark should. But at the same time, I get so tired of being a virgin sometimes, of being a failure of a man in more ways than one, and I’d just like it to end so badly that sometimes the cost doesn’t much matter.

It should matter, though, and hopefully I can get back to a place where I am not asking hypothetical questions about whether it’s okay to deliberately flex or ditch some sense of interpersonal ethics just for a roll in the hay. Even if it may be the first, and last, roll in the hay one may ever get. If I have learned anything, it is that life is cruel, and unfair, and often gives miserable choices. It may very well come down to sex with a Neo-Nazi or drug mule, or no sex at all. And am I a demon for at least considering the former? If I had to? Even if I hope to never, ever, EVER have to?

I’d love to have better choices of lovers, wonderful women whose morals and personalities work well with my own likes and moral codes. I just don’t think I have much to offer them at this time, so I often find myself bracing for whoever else is out there for me. If there is anyone else out there for me.

As always, thanks for reading. This was an awkward one, but I am glad to have put my thoughts to text on this one.