Archive for January, 2009


I hate Saturday–it’s the only day I have nowhere to go.  Of course this may change if/when I have a girlfriend–but I have no idea if/when that will be.  Of any man I know, I have the worst luck with women.  In Hindu mythology,  Shiva is the fiercest god of all.  This is because, though he strongly desires women (mortal and immortal)  he is unable to copulate with them.  So he has this pressure inside that he is never able to release, and is thus seething with fierceness.  This eternal pressure gives him infinite power over the universe, because he channels it in other ways.  But I don’t even have that power to console me.

I’m having what my dad calls a “pity-party”!   I always laugh when he says this, despite my anger.  I can imagine sending cards to everyone I know: YOU’RE INVITED TO A PITY-PARTY! 

For a year now, I’ve been an active member of a singles organization.  This is not church-affiliated–it’s a social group that meets at a different restaurant every Friday, and holds a dance every two or three months.  You might wonder why I haven’t found a girlfriend in it.  After all, there are more women than men.  The reason is simple–they think I’m too young for them.  At 42, I’m the youngest member.  All the women are in their 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s.   A married friend of mine offers some consolation, though.  She says if I stay in the group long enough, all the other members will have died, and I’ll be the oldest member!

Last night, we ate at a sports-bar in Milton.  Because Milton’s so far away, and I hate long drives, that was my first time there in nine years.  I wore my Auburn T-shirt (I attended Auburn University my first year).  Somebody jokingly commented that I was wearing the wrong shirt–I didn’t know what she was talking about until we all left the bar, and sat at our table.  There was a huge-screen TV in front of us, and the Sugar Bowl was on.  I had not known Alabama was in it–and everybody else was for Bama.  (During my year at Auburn, alot of the cars sported bumper stickers that read, BUCK FAMA!) 

I cheered for Utah, as I ate the Spare Tire Burger (the largest available–two half-pound patties, with everything you want on them), and drank my Guinness.   I never drink alone, and I don’t keep alcohol in my home.  But I love to drink socially, partly because it gives me just enough audacity to ask women out without stuttering or hem-hawing. 

But last night there were only two women, Peggy and Susan, to whom I was attracted.  And they were so engrossed in the game, I would have annoyed them if I’d interrupted.  So I came home, after paying for the meal, and slept-off the beer–while most of the singles remained, hoping for a Bama win.  When I awoke, the Sugar Bowl was still going, but Utah was winning , so I turned off the TV.  I’ve been wanting a Florida T-shirt ever since it beat Bama–and now I want a Utah shirt as well!

Anyway, there were no messages on my answering machine last night, and no one has called me all day.  There’s one woman in particular–a voluptuous brunette with dark eyes, named Carol–whose call I’ve been awaiting, since she took my phone number at the New Year’s Eve Dance, and told me she’d call.  But of course she hasn’t called–otherwise I probably wouldn’t be writing this post!