Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Getting older: much worse than you think



Just recently I've felt an incredible sense of lonliness. I think it stems from the realisation that my social circle has shrunk dramatically over the last couple of years.

Here's an example. Ten years ago I threw a cocktail party, inviting a very select group of guests whom I thought would appreciate this swanky affair. More than 40 people showed up. One year ago I threw another cocktail party, inviting every single person I knew. Barely 20 people turned up. I put out double the number of invites... and got half the guests.

I get the impression that after the age of 40, most people don't want friends per se. They have spouses, children, and the parents of their childrens' friends. Those that do want friends demand that they be fabulous and entertaining, and while I can hold my own at a dinner party I am never the life of it. I get the impression that for most people being friends with someone over the age of 40 is just too much effort. And sort of icky.

I've even broken down the demographics in order to understand it better.

1. Straight couples. They don't want anything to do with singles. Look at it from their perspective: what are they supposed to do with a 40 year old single man? It's weird. Where will he sit at dinner parties? The table will be unbalanced. Easier to just not invite him. Plus (in the more extreme cases) do we really want someone like that around the children? I mean, he's 40, no girlfriend or boyfriend, no kids of his own... it's all just a tiny bit suspicious.

2. Straight singles. Our ancestors took long-term bachelors and spinsters in their stride, but nowadays it seems that to be single is to be suspect. With relaxed class and social norms and ease of travel and communication, many of the old excuses for singledom are gone... leaving only the excuse of being a loser. Most of my straight single friends are significantly flawed: casting my mind over my social circle, there's a bipolar, two clinical depressions, an Asperger's Syndrome... the only reason that most of them aren't partnered up is because nobody wants them. Straight singles also tend to be lousy hosts who throw parties about as successfully as I throw Volkswagens.

3. Gay couples. They regard the single man as a threat, a resource to be exploited for threesomes or, perversely, an embarassment - a deviation from the white picket fence version of coupledom that a lot of gay partnerships create. They attempt to be even more cookie-cutter perfect that the straights, meaning that they MUST have the golden retriever, the luxury compact SUV, the designer tableware and the Martha Stewart dinner parties with exactly the right other couples.

4. Gay singles. You would think that gay singles would tend to befriend each other, but it seems that most want boyfriends, not boy friends. I've had a couple of single gay friends who've hung around for a while, but once it becomes clear that a "relationship" isn't going to form, they drift off in search of one.

While I'd love to have someone to love, I find that when my social life is thriving I don't feel any sort of aching need for a lover. I guess I'm easily contented. However the rest of the world appears to believe that without someone by your side, you're nothing.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

If only I could control this stuff I'd rule the world. Or at least gaydar.



Perhaps it's just our human quirk of seeing patterns where there's really only coincidence, but I can't get over the feeling that my appeal on online dating sites ebbs and flows like the tide. It's like there's some sort of electronic pheremone that I occasionally give out, and it's totally beyond my control.

Take last week. I hadn't done anything out of the ordinary, but I suddenly found myself in communication with three separate guys. Firstly, a fashion designer who wasn't my type but seemed to be very interesting. Secondly, a rough-around-the-edges charmer who seemed willing to have a decent conversation. And thirdly, a hunky miner who if nothing else seemed to promise the possibility of hot hard sex.

Too many times in the past I've had a flood of interest come out of the blue, and ignored all but the most appealing one. Then of course when that appealing one faltered I had no other irons in the fire. This time I decided to work smarter. I made sure to chat with all three of them as if they were the only one, turning on the old GTR charm, asking pertinent questions, demonstrating interest but not desperation. They all responded with eagerness.

And suddenly, like a portcullis slamming down, all three of them fell silent. No warning. No suggestion of waning interest. Just silence. At the same time.

My supply of pheremone must have run out.