Apropos of nothing to do with the topic of this blog:
Recently I was talking to my mother about a couple of her single friends. They are fifty-ish, physically fit, cute, fun, employed. Not frumpy old hags like me, nothing wrong with them at all. I said, “It’s been ages since either of them has had a boyfriend, what’s up with that?”
And my mother said, “Oh, there aren’t any men our age to date.”
“Well, how can that be?” I asked. I mean the population is about 50/50, right? So for every single woman there must be a single man somewhere, no? The two women I was contemplating each have an ex-husband out there (one of them has something like three ex-husbands, in fact). So how can the numbers be so skewed?
“Oh no,” my mother said. “They’re all married or they want a twenty-five year old girlfriend.”
Now, as a matter of course, my mother and I don’t share the same worldview, so I just dismissed her and then I was talking with a co-worker about a client of our’s. “Staci,” he said, “I’m sure this guy’s recently divorced, because he’s forty-eight, he’s not married and he’s not gay.”
“Well, maybe he’s just never married,” I countered.
“Listen,” he said, “I was between marriages in my forties, and I’m telling you, if you’re in your forties, you shower and you have a job, you can’t stay single for very long – you can have any woman you want. You don’t have to be smart or good looking or rich – over forty, clean and employed, that’s it.”
“Well,” I shrugged, “We’ve only met him on the telephone – maybe he doesn’t shower.”
Still confused I consulted my husband on the matter and he said that a middle aged (man) friend of his had told him the same thing several years ago. He told my husband that even as you feel like you’re getting older and balder and fatter, etcetera, it gets easier and easier to get girls.
What IS the deal with that I've been wondering - perhaps obsessing - and now Slate has given me a possible answer to ponder. And it has a link to this wickedly brilliant piece by Lori Gottlieb. After reading it I've decided to refrain from asking my husband what is so difficult about picking up the bathmat and draping it back over the tub after the kids are done bathing. Well - for today at least.