Tag Archives: men

Cringe-worthy

This was a long time ago. I was dating a guy who was several years younger than me. How many is up for debate; he was self-dramatizing and a chronic liar and I suspected he was younger than he said (I’d seen his i.d. and he had a convoluted explanation as to the discrepancy). Of course this makes him sound bad, as it should, but he was also smart, funny, and up for fun – which I enjoyed. Initially anyway, he seemed to be a kind, generous soul. Still, he was very young and had a lot of growing up to do. This was wildly demonstrated in one particular incident.

I had driven him back home to his apartment complex to drop him off. We were idling in the parking lot and having a mundane – i.e., about nothing all that important – dispute. He was acting badly and initially refused to get out of the car. I was ticked but held my temper while gripping the steering wheel. Eventually he did get out of the passenger seat. Wisely, I locked the doors because he began to throw a tantrum outside the car and attempted to open the door again. As I drove away this scene culminated, to my horror, with the sight of him in my rear view window throwing himself dramatically and bodily down onto the pavement in a fit.

It’s almost funny now. But I still cringe.

Advertisements

Short Thought 157 (men aging)

There was a short-lived TV show many years back starring the impeccable Richard Dreyfuss. His character was widowed I think, with a teenage daughter and worked in education. On one episode he said that women no longer paid attention to him at his age, they didn’t offer little smiles in passing and so on. In a culture so heavily weighted on female sexuality and its “shelf life” I just hadn’t thought how aging out of attractiveness and sexual viability might be for a man. I’ve never heard a man I know say anything like this, only that character, but it sounded true. It’s a loss for men too.

Short Thought 153 (bells & whistles)

I dated a man who I concluded needed about half of what I was. Sort of like buying a phone or a computer or other major appliance with lots of bells and whistles you’ll never use. Better to get a more basic version.

Acts of affection…

It was probably the most genuine, tender interaction between us. We were both in the vicinity of middle age. Our relationship to each other was ambiguous, not or not-yet defined. I was sussing things out you could say. We were in public together, in a social setting with other people. I don’t remember what precipitated it – had anything? – when, without speaking, he suddenly inclined his head my way, almost bowing but not too low. Maybe it was an act of supplication, maybe it was a declaration, I don’t know. Without hesitating I reached out and put my hand on the top of his head and rested it briefly there. I said nothing. To me, the moment was not quite maternal, not quite romantic, but something else or something in between. It felt, despite the eyes on us, private.

He spoiled it not much later, hopping around, bleating, “Touch my head! Rub my head!” while leaning in toward me the way a cat or dog does when it wants to make you pet it. He was clearly playing to the other people present, acting the fool. I  had a fair idea this time was going to be used for a joke or punch line. I wouldn’t do it. I paid him no mind.

 

 

The comments on this post are disabled.

“Watch yourself”

He was a middle-aged man. We had not spent much time together. Now we were outside walking through an overgrown area where plants blocked the path. He walked in front of me and as he passed various shrubbery and branches, instead of holding them aside or saying, “Watch yourself” or some such, he let the branches and stems fling back and hit me. Once I realized it, I slowed my gait and fell behind slightly so that the branches stilled before I reached them and I could easily move them aside for myself.

This small action on his part spoke volumes to me. He was not doing it on purpose – trying to make foliage hit me the way someone might do if they were trying to be either playful or rude – as much as he was oblivious to what he was doing. He wasn’t thinking about me, the woman walking behind him at all. I instinctively knew he’d had no one teach him the little niceties of interacting – or he’d had no interest in learning – and I further knew I wasn’t going to be the one to do it now. There were already too many other things about which I had deep reservations.

Things Men Have Said to Me (#20)

He was, by his account, wild about me. We were talking about someone we knew who had died, and the topic of funerals generally.

HIM (not in jest): “If you died, I would take off work to go to the funeral.”

Things Men Have Said to Me (#17)

(A man well into middle-age, who I’d met previously, in the exact same location we were now in, introduced himself. Surprised, I told him we’d met before, here.)

HIM (straight-faced, not joking): “You must not have made much of an impression on me. Maybe you will this time.”

ME (turning away): “Maybe not.”