Five Reasons I Don’t Date
Unless of course it's Daniel, Liam or George Clooney!
(No, Not Because There Aren’t Any Men)
Sure, as I get older, the available pool of men gets smaller. But, even if they’re available – would I want them? Would they want me? By this time, we’ve all got lives and baggage; it’s difficult to make a space for someone else. Many men wouldn’t be interested in me, for reasons you can infer from the following five reasons I don’t date.
1. That Deadly “Story Of My Life” First Date. Hey, I love me; I’m my very favorite person. I can navel gaze with the best of ‘em. But after – oh – 25 years or so I’m sick of talking about my hometown, what my parents did, where I went to college, my favorite authors, my hobbies, etc. etc. Why not just hand him a data sheet with bullet points?
2. Now that I’m NOT looking for commitment, men are…by the second date they’re already planning weekend getaways (I’ll fly you anywhere!) or wanting to introduce me to their (grown) children. Yikes! Don’t ya think we should at least kiss with tongue before we start with the relationship? Da pressure! Da pressure!
3. He might want to spend the night. Remember when we wanted the guys to sleep over? Now, I don’t want to give up the bed space…or deal with the whole bathroom thing…or, God forbid, see him in the morning. NOT my best time, mentally or physically (I bear an unnerving resemblance to that infamous mug shot of Nick Nolte and my verbal skills are pretty much limited to short grunts before my first cup of caffeine.)
4. He might DARE to load the dishwasher. No, really. I’ve got a system. No, that’s nice. Please sit down and relax! I SAID no thank you! FOR CHRISSAKES, GIVE ME THAT PLATE!
5. I may not even know I’m ON a date. Seriously. The last one was – I thought – a friendly lunch with a colleague…but he kept saying date-like things. Puzzling. A friend had to point out, upon hearing my report, that the poor guy thought HE was on a date. Oh Dear.
…and I can buy myself dinner, a car, a house, bling and vacations. Alas, I can’t thrill to sending myself flowers for Valentine’s, but the cat would eat them anyway.
However, if Daniel Craig, Liam Neeson, or George Clooney is reading this…you can load my dishwasher any old way you’d like.