Saturday, February 15, 2014


One of my readers left a comment under a post several days ago which, the more I think about, the more it bothers me. She suggested that I was desperate. I assume it was a 'she', because most men understand the difference between desperate and simply not getting any.

And only young men are upset, frantic, disturbed, pained, frustrated, perturbed, even "desperate" if they aren't getting any.
Middle-aged men are peeved.
If anything.

Yes, my current relationship status might be considered one in which a degree of peevishness would not be entirely unusual or unnatural.
It's a normal state of affairs.

The problem is that most of the time men cannot stop thinking about that other gender, and the various characteristics of exemplars that intrigue us, which may induce peeve, whereas women on average spend thirty hours a day thinking about handbags.
Some more, some less.

About three years ago one of my readers started suggesting at every turn that I should pursue any likely woman who crossed my path.
Spinners, hoochies, wild party drunks, and such like.
He could not grasp that I wasn't "desperate".
Hell will freeze over first.

One of the phrases I use often is "life is too short to drink Starbucks". What that means is that if, for instance, I had a yen for curry, and the only place where it could be found was a mediocre restaurant with low standards -- such as, for instance, any place where Suleiman the nasty Bengali works -- it would be entirely out of the question to eat there.
Better no curry at all than some miserable version of it.
Shan't settle for crap just because.

On the other hand, I am not pursuing anything at all either. Reason being that I don't know anyone whom I might like to know better.

As a hypothetical representatrice of the "type", I may have painted a wordportrait on occasion that included the terms "elegant hands" and "pleated skirt".

Both of which are symbolic of certain sought-after characteristics.
Yes, I know of several persons who could be described thus (if they wore skirts). But none of them are targets. For the very simple reason that I have reason to believe that none of them actually read. They are exemplary young ladies (*), and quite uncomplicated. Very normal.

[Explanation of the term "young ladies": the corollary to young gentlemen; a female between twenty and forty who demonstrates good manners and morals, and is reasonably independent minded. A woman, but more than just a woman; ideally a real gentleman among her gender. In any case, someone older than 'girl'.]

Dating any of the people I know is quite out of the question, especially the 'young ladies' among them. That does not mean I cannot appreciate their sweetness and charm, and occasionally interact with them, but it does mean that I shall not ask any of them out on a date. They would end up finding me peculiar, irrespective of whether they said yes or no.
If before, because the invite would be a breach of protocol.
If afterwards, quite likely because of my various interests, books, and lifestyle. None of those are within their ballpark.
Some of them are very cute(*).

Cute alone does not make for a suitable match.

[Explanation of the term "cute": there's 'cute', and then there's 'cute'; 1) between adorable (worthy of being adored) and admirable; 2) itsy witsy oooh! Examples: "She knows ALL about the internal combustion engine, and tunes her own car!" "That's so cute!" "Look at that fabulous Hello Kitty purse!" "That's so cute!" A young lady who knows how to fix her own engine is adorable and admirable. A young lady with a Hello Kitty thing going on is a dingbat. There may be an overlap, and I have no idea what to call them in that case.]

But "not getting any" is not a significant factor in this situation.
It just does not enter into the calculation.
It's all about coffee.


Coffee, coffee, dinner, dinner, dinner.
Coffee, dinner, coffee, dinner, coffee, and dinner.
Coffee coffee coffee coffee! Dinner dinner dinner dinner!

The entire process starts with caffeine. Enjoy a beverage together in a public place, get to know more about the facets that fascinate(*), then graduate to dinner together because it's fun eating with someone else who is good company.

[Explanation of term "facets that fascinate": these could be almost anything. But in my case, there are the things that interest me and the books I read. In the case of a hypothetical young lady, it could very well also be the things that interest her and the books she reads. Or, for example, her knowledge of internal combustion engines, and that she can fix her own car. For some people it's a Hello Kitty fetish, or handbags. ]

It isn't until after sufficient caffeine and food that sexuality can even be an issue. If one cannot even get along very well and enjoy each other's company, it will never come to that. But the facets that fascinate have to come before, always, and it would be quite ridiculous to assume that just because a young lady of any age is sweet and charming, or cute, there is anything there.

Without more than a slight social familiarity, there is no basis for pursuing the matter. One has to know the other person first.
And often just leave it at that.

Mere possession of secondary sexual characteristics, even if they are quite remarkable, doesn't count.

Although I will admit that small hands can be appealing.

Life is just too short to drink Starbucks.

Peet's; Peet's is a good brand.

NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:

All correspondence will be kept in confidence.

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