Thirty-nine

So my friend Jack calls me up.  Invites me to meet him at a bar which is around the corner from my house.  I say "text me when you're there".

When I arrive, Jack and I chat for a while, then he suggests we join a group of people he knows.

This, by the way, is a "singles" group.  It's a meetup.com group I've been a member of for years.  I rarely go to their events anymore - in fact, the last event I went to was at this particular bar, with Jack, probably about a year ago.  So I know what I'm in for, mostly.

We join the group of people, and one guy gets introduced to me.  "John?" I ask after he says his name.  "No, Doug." Me: "oh, sorry.  I couldn't hear very well.  I'm old, you know."  It's ok to say this now that I'm old.  I say it with no irony or embarrassment.  It really is difficult for me to hear individual voices in an environment that has a lot of ambient sound.  "No!  You're probably the youngest person here!" he exclaims.

Oh fuck.  I've heard this for years.  I constantly praise my mom and the genes she passed on to me.  She is 76 this year and looks probably 20 years younger.  I follow in her footsteps and look younger than I actually am (50 years old baby!).  So I'm used to this sort of response.  And I'm constantly curious to know how old I look to people who don't know me.  Not out of ego (yes, there's some of that there, of course, I admit it), but out of honest curiosity.   I don't always have the best sense of age of other people.  Some folks who are younger than me I think are ten years older.  Some folks who are older seem to be my age or maybe a bit younger.  It's an interesting tidbit for me.

I chuckle and say "really?!".  Doug says "I'll bet you a dollar that you're the youngest here."

Ok.  I'm at a singles group meeting.  This is all window dressing and an attempt at flattery.  But I'm going to call his bluff.  Because it's amusing to me. Because it's a test for him.  "Yeah?  I'll bet you that dollar!"  And I stick my hand out to shake on it.  Of course, I know my friend Jack is younger than me, so it's an easy win.  But there's something else.  If you're going to come on strong like that, back your shit up.  Don't just feed me that line and think I'll fucking fall for it.  You made the bet - live up to it.

"Ok, um...." Doug looks around at the group, obviously sizing everyone up - trying desperately to decide if he's just painted himself into a corner that he doesn't know how to escape from, or if he thinks he's on the winning side of this bet.

Really, if he was trying to score with the girl, he'd take the damn bet regardless of whether he thought he'd win it or not.  It's an in with the girl.  Win or lose, he's got something to talk about with her afterwards.  And it's an easy bet.  But, as he himself said, "I'm also cheap", so the negative possibility of having to scrape a dollar out of his wallet beats his desire to connect with a girl.  He is not a betting man.  He doesn't take the bet.

"How old are you?" I ask.  "Forty-five" he answers.  I chuckle.  "How old do you think I am?" I ask.  "Well, I was going to say 39, but after your laugh, I'm not sure."  He looks very unsure and a little sick.  I don't bother to tell him my age.

The conversation fizzles from there, and he drifts off.

It's sad, this singles scene that I have access to.  Men who have no fucking spine.  Men who aren't willing to bet their shit, win or lose.  Because a small loss might equal a bit win.  But they don't seem to know that.

Is this a Pacific NW issue?  Or is it a cultural issue of our time?  I don't know.

But I'm willing to bet $1 that I might be single for a long, long time.