Getting back to the "Please explain women" post, the general consensus of opinion from the comments of the good burghers of Blogville seems to be:
from the hetero-men: "Be afraid!"
from the hetero-women: "Be VERY afraid!"
from the lesbian and gay community: "Actually, women are great but be afraid anyway."
All of which leaves me none the wiser but considerably more frightened of women.
Thanks, guys.
My problem is that it's been so long since I experienced whatever it is I'm supposed to be afraid of that I can't remember what a "relationship" is like at all.
And I would kinda like to try another one before I die - if only so I can say "Aha! NOW I remember why I should be afraid."
Some of you very kindly gave me some not-exactly-helpful advice on this problem a couple of years ago but due to the fact that I'm too ugly to get close enough to a woman to try any of it out, things have not exactly developed, romance-wise.
Although on the plus side I have become a world-renowned authority on whining self-pity and onanism so I suppose I shouldn't really complain.
So … Old Dive's miserable about being alone again. When you've finished pointing and laughing I'd appreciate some "Let's get the old bastard dating again" tips, please.
I'll give you a hand by listing my good points and bad points:
Good points …
I have a great job, a nice house in a beautiful village and a cool car that's less than a week old.
I'm a pretty good cook.
I like housework.
I can iron like a demon.
I don't have an inconvenient wife and kids.
I love shopping.
I'm well educated, a decent musician and artist and I've never smoked.
I am allegedly funny, smart and good company.
I can take no for an answer.
Bad Points …
I'm forty-nine years old.
I'm slightly less sexually attractive than the stuff you clean out of your plughole.
No matter how many items I cram into the "Good" category, it's those two little "Bad"s that outweigh them a million times over and guarantee me a lifetime of heartache, misery, loneliness and grubby masturbation.
The trouble with being Ug is, as I've said before, that an Ug guy is as "safe" as a gay guy; pretty girls love to have us as friends, to shop and gossip with (and to moan endlessly to us about their relationships), but the prospect of actually dating one of us would induce an amusing combination of screaming and vomiting in every single one of 'em.
Being everybody's best friend is wonderful, but being everybody's best friend and nobody's lover kinda grates; at least it does after the first few decades.
Dating is real ordeal for an Ug.
We ugs are the people who put the "N" in "hello" … We say "Hello" to a woman and she takes one look at us and her mind crams that "N" in there, transforming "Hello" into "Hell No".
And while living alone has its plus points - unhindered access to a bathroom that's free of industrial quantities of stinky gunk and being able to do, think, eat and drink whatever I please when I feel like it - it would be nice if that was something I chose to do. But a cold empty house and a cold empty bed are compulsory upon achieving Ug-dom.
So … It's been a couple of years since the "dating advice" fiasco and we've got some new folk here in Blogville. Does anyone out there have any useful advice that might help Old Dive get a date and rediscover just why I should be so afraid of weemen?
24 comments:
I'm not sure I like being the first to comment here, Dive, but I can say for a fact that you are not Ug, by any stretch.
It's been over 24 years since I have had a date or had to date, so I'm afraid I've got no advice to give.
Yikes! I'm even so bad that women don't like to comment!
Hee hee.
Robyn, even if you didn't have a lovely family you would never have problems dating.
It's different for Ugs, of whom I am a fully paid-up member, though thank you for the compliment.
Oh come on! You had me at "N"! Aren't you more than thrilled that I'm home this morning so that I can chime in with a huge list of helpful suggestions?
I've told you before that the "Ug" business is just not going to fly around here because we have seen your picture and it is simply not true. As Scout, who has seen you in person has said...."not Ug, by any stretch". You're a fine looking fellow!
If you spent as much time socializing
(Webster style?) in person as you do on the internet, you would not have this issue whatsoever!
You are single because you commute 6 bloody hours per day! Oh dear, now I'm cursing.
But you know what? I'll stop berating you about that and just simply begin to empathize. It is extremely hard to meet people and get to know them for who they really are.
We just had a houseguest for two days(one of Jamey's friends)to whom I never showed my true self because I was afraid he would think me ridiculous. I was scared of him in my own house and found myself acting like an android around him so that he would think I was a perfect hostess instead of a perfect....slob, ug, psycho, loser, you name it.
No one is perfect Dive. and you may want to take it one step further for therapy's sake and put a few more things on your your "negatives" side just to let you realize that. You must first find your faults to accept them and move on. ( I said that last part like a Jedi master.) You accept other people's shortcomings, now do the same for yourself you must, young Padawan.
God made you special.
Every jar has a lid (who needs some ironing done).
Are you crying and in the fetal position yet?
Wow! A six hour daily commute would be Heaven, Shan! Even if the trains run on time mine is seven hours (and they never run on time).
And I DO socialise (English version).
Oh, no! Be HONEST about my bad points? I'd be typing from here to next Wednesday!
Fat, ugly, balding, snobbish, pretentious, facetious, picky, murderously fastidious about straight towels and the dreaded cutlery drawer, allergic to perfume (yup, that's a doozy on a date), pig-headed, moody, old … sheesh, the list has barely even started.
And I'm English. We don't do therapy. We either cope or we throw ourselves under trains.
Having said that, I am indeed more than thrilled (as always) when you chime in.
:D The dreaded cutlery drawer will no doubt be the next deal breaker. BAHHAHA
You forgot to mention CAR RAZ Y!!! But, then the crazy makes you funny so those balance out. Hehaw.
The English don't DO therapy? I knew I was English at heart. I much prefer denial and robotic default settings.
Hey Dive ol' buddy -
I agree with Scout and Shan...you are NOT an Ug.
Don't be afraid of women, we're really not that bad. Some of us are rather nice actually.
I don't have any advice either I'm afraid. I'm lucky enough to be in a LTR for over 11 years. I wouldn't know the first thing on how to start again if I had to.
I would probably become one of those crazy cat ladies...except I'm allergic to them. Maybe a crazy dog lady.
:::sigh:::
Sorry - I'm not helping am I?
I like the "HELL NO" methaphor.
hmmm you CAN get a date dive. Just don't ever ever answer in truth when a woman asks you what you are thinking. Never ever answer in truth.
It's funny that you weren't any of those negative things in my dream the other night ;0)..do you have cobalt blue glasswear in your attic?
Shan: Denial and the good old British Stiff Upper Lip have always worked for me.
Not that it's really done me any good; I'm still a miserable git.
Shazza: You are a tremendous help. I'd not thought of asking crazy old cat ladies for a date. It might just work!
Rich: I'm kinda proud of the Hell No thing. It came to me when I was thinking about asking a woman for a dance once and my mind butted in and told me my Hello would come right back at me as a Hell No.
If I ever get far enough with a woman so that she asks what I'm thinking I'll remember your sage advice, but it hasn't happened yet.
Hee hee, Prudence! All I have in my attic are boxes and boxes of books and "The Thing That Eats Spiders".
You should really lay off the pizzas just before going to sleep. You'll find you wake up screaming a lot less.
here's what i don't understand about men...why do men ask a question, get an answer and still do what you want to do? i swear, sugar, that's the primary reason my answer is whatever! xoxxo
I have no idea, Savannah. The only answer I ever got was "Piss off, creep!" (true).
And I did!
xoxox
Well here's a question for you from the Love Coach: when was the last time you actually did something proactive to invite love into your life? (I swear, I don't talk like that to my clients :D)
Isn't "proactive" some kind of yoghurty thing, Joy?
And after the way love totally trashed my life I'm not sure I should be inviting it back again. I've not forgiven it yet. It's got to look a little more sorry for what it did.
Hahaha. Yeah, I think that's Activia or something. :D And hey! Love didn't do that to you, but you know who!
Instead of therapy (and in addition to Joy the Love Coach who seems to be telling you to eat the yogurt that makes you regular, which could be a problem), I think what you need is a Dating Coach to get back to the basics. (I know, that's SO California, and possibly worst than therapy.) So here's my offer: if you buy me lunch, I'll give you some constructive advice after observing you in person. I'll need you to act snobbish, pretentious, facetious, and picky so I can see you in action. And I'll wear lots of perfume just to see if you can take it (it will be nice French perfume though). Otherwise, I don't think that any advice I could offer you now will be of much help. Think you can handle it??
Love is usually a lot closer than you think. Anyone on the train that looks ok? Maybe the lady behind the counter in the local deli??? Maybe someone in the office? Often times if you try too hard it doesn't happen and you just need to be your wonderful charming self!!! God what terrible advice that was - shit - I don't know - no bloddy idea - but we, your loving groupies, all think you are fabulous and if I wasn't married I'd be over there in a flash (it was the ironing that did it!!!)
Actually have just read the other comments and if I was you - I would be on that plane tomorrow to visit Katie!!!!
Dive darling,
First of all you are not an "Ug". Second of all you have so many good qualities! Cooking alone is a major turn on for most independent women.
How picky are YOU about women? Are you limiting yourself to young hotties or are you up to the serious challenge of someone our age. (Now that I know we are both 49ers) Can you handle a little baggage? Most middle aged single women appreciate someone who appreciates them, wrinkles, baggage and all. If you can't find anyone in Britain, come over to the states. I can introduce you to lots of ladies who love British accents.
Jules I'm going to make it really easy for Dive and meet him in London in October. (See his 9/2/08 post. You didn't guess that was me?)
Dive I'll get you prepare for all of Neetzy's friends!
You'll meet her in some unexpected way in some unexpected place.
I have a story in my head for you already. There's Dive, sitting in a cafe drinking coffee with a friend and she walks in and accidentally spills her purse. A lipstick rolls under your table and you retrieve it and gallantly hand it to her.
She is in her early 40's and isn't beautiful but isn't unattractive either. When you hand her lipstick back to her, you wish you had the courage to say something witty, but as usual, your tongue ties up.
Later that day as you are walking through a park you see her again, this time walking a small brown dog.
You both do a double take. She (women are so much braver than men)comes up to you and asks if you aren't the gallant gent who found her lipstick.
You acknowledge that yes, that was you.
A conversation ensues, followed by an invitation to go have coffee.
It's a terrific conversation and is followed up by an even more wonderful dinner.
And the balls gets rolling.
Now, I have sent this thought out to the universe.
So, go to a cafe with a friend or two and see what happens...
Yeah, I know, Joy, but love certainly helped.
A DATING COACH, Katie?
In which twisted Hell-Universe does such a monster exist?
Ah … California! Why am I not surprised?
And you're coming to observe London, not Old Dive, even though I will no doubt be snobbish, pretentious, facetious and picky as that's just my natural state.
If you're going to wear perfume we'll have to walk on opposite sides of the street with you downwind and communicate via loud-hailers.
Jules: Love is a lot closer than I think? You mean it lurks by the skirting board like a big, hairy spider?
Ew!
Everybody on the train hates everybody else and the 5:40AM to London is populated entirely by businessmen with the exception of a few vicious old hags and "A Woman Called Horse".
The local deli is run by an elderly Brazilian couple.
The OFFICE? There's not a "NO" in the world big enough to cope with that one.
Yup, that sure was terrible advice. Hee hee.
Hey, Neetzy.
How picky am I about weemen?
My secretary joked that I am so desperate that a pulse is not necessary; that I would date "anything that still twitches when you kick it".
Fortunately our tastes change as we get older and yes, I find women around my own age attractive and young girls decorative but incredibly annoying (especially my secretary).
Katie: That's going to be a hard task. Expect an elderly Niles Crane with all of the neuroses and none of the looks or charm and tailor your advice accordingly. Hee hee.
Maria: I'll be going for coffee and breakfast in a few minutes. Present will be Lucy (family) the barista, Phil (bro), Tony (musician) and Terri (his wife). My head will be stuck in the Guardian's book reviews while I occasionally grunt in answer to some point about rugby. If a lipstick rolls under my table I'll not notice it and the reaction the woman will get as she crawls under there to retrieve it is a chorus of Crane Brothers' "Tuts" at her gaucherie.
If a woman walking a dog approaches me I'll fuss the dog rather than the woman. Having said that, the three things not welcome in my house are smokers, children and dogs so that's a recipe for disaster.
I know. I am my own worst enemy. Any contact with a woman and I either freeze or my mind runs a high-speed disaster movie in my head which forces me to get the hell outta there.
Sigh …
Shit Mate - what more can we do???
Shoot me, Jules.
My marital status is "retired". Has been for years...and I'm more than ok with that. I like myself better when uncoupled. In a relationship I become someone you'd barely recognize - needy, clingy, insecure. On my own I'm strong, independent and self-reliant.
Mom taught us it's better to be contentedly single than miserably married.
I was contentedly single for a lot of years, Lulu, but now I am considerably discontented with it all.
If I had a choice in the matter it would be okay, but compulsory loneliness truly sucks the soul dry.
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