Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Someone Out There
Lately I've been musing over the process of how we go about trying to meet people these days and I've noticed a stark difference between now and my younger days. Perhaps I was very starry-eyed in my youth but there seemed a certain mystique to courtship back then. I guess that is just the way we chose, or more likely were taught, to view it. Now, at my age, it seems the process is something not entirely unlike purchasing a horse. Is his back still holding up? Does he kick or bite? Has he been gelded and does all his, umm, 'equipment' still function? Not that there's no romance to it now, but I think practicality has become a much higher priority and considering my circumstances are a little different than most women, I find myself scrutinizing men over the craziest things. Does he give me ample reason to believe he can outwork me? Did he gaze too longingly at my welding machine? The hell with him looking at other women, he better not get it in his head he's going to hog Big Red. That's my machine buddy!
Have I been alone too long and had to do for myself so much that now, any man that comes to sway my heart must complete a series of labors that would make Hercules sink to his knees in despair? No mythical beast slaying here, just help me split that cord of firewood, make yourself presentable enough to attend some hoity-toity art gallery event, all the while assuring me that my art is surely better than anything else like it you see. Oh, and keep your damn boots off the coffee table.