Good Bye for Life Indeed
Thursday, June 18th, 2009Lately, I somehow seem to have unwittingly become the emotional sounding board of single late 30s/ early 40s men. It’s uncanny. Granted, I guess you could say I have some “experience” with dating older (in some cases significantly) and divorced men (one with a child), so if anything, I’m an empathetic listener. But, while I can dole out advice based on my own experiences, I have zero desire to relay where this advice stems from. Conversations like these can dredge up any number of memories that are best left unremembered. And in the meantime, it keeps happening. I keep finding myself engaged in these odd confessions.
Case in point, on a recent visit to my Iranian dentist, he began to discuss the Chicago dating scene and his troubled search for a “suitable” woman in her late 20s/ early 30s via The Reader and craigslist. With my jaw akimbo, it was pretty much a one-sided conversation as most dental discourse proves. That said, it got really awkward when he paused while flossing in realization that I was unmarried and in his “age range.” On my way out the door, he gave me what he called a “VIP” toothbrush… and his personal email address. What, so we can continue the conversation?
And then, there’s the a.m. train conductor who’s been punching my ticket (no, not a euphemism) five days a week for almost four years. Always congenial and especially helpful during The Commuter’s stalking phase, the conductor’s friendliness has evolved into something else of late. Recently divorced, he’s begun climbing the stairs to the upper seating area and camping out where I sheepishly sit open book in lap.
His topics of choice include the travails of his debaucherous weekends wherein he seems to be making up for “lost time,” his own frustrations (and also double standard) with finding a woman “without baggage” in her mid to late 30s, and the ongoing soap opera of having to deal with his ex-wife and shared custody of their two boys. At this point, I think he should be paying me for my train ride.
Which brings me to my conversation with a complete stranger while I stood in line for the unisex bathroom at one of the MCA’s First Fridays. I had dropped in with a few friends, which in truth proved disappointing. The much lauded food from Wolfgang Puck’s on-site restaurant, in its attempt to be accessible and kitschy, proved desultory and infantile instead (macaroni and cheese- really?). Still, it made for decent people watching and I even finagled the bartender to give me a “big girl cup” for my gin and tonics.
This man looked to be about 38, convivial, and well put together, but was also (unfortunately for him) a bit too short for most women and much too eager for a “lock it down” sort of relationship. He quickly unveiled that he’s been poking around the online dating world with little success. I asked about his dating “parameters” and offered that he might consider upping his age restrictions to get what he claims to want. It may be a generalization, but few 23-28 year old women in Chicago, if they’re not already engaged or married, are looking for what he seems to be offering, or (let’s face it) open to dating someone that much older without the idea of being “taken care of.”
Ultimately, I recommended he stay away from Match and explore eHarmony instead (believe me; it suited his intent and personality much more). He seemed to appreciate my advice, and then tossed out a last ditch effort.
“And what about you?”
“Happily dating a man with real promise.”
“What if it doesn’t work out?”
Flattered, I smiled as I stated more than asked, “And what if it does?”
“Ah, well, good bye for life I guess.”
Leave a Reply