Dating in today’s crazy world ay? I’m Akin. Well that was my maiden name and I like it because it begins with the letter D. Here’s my take. With a Christmas spirit beginning to percolate in my head all plans to spend last night watching my old fella cutting his toe nails and cleaning his lug holes out with the end of a spoon in front of a Dortmund v Zagreb football match, were abandoned. Before I left he said to me “I’m going with Zagreb tonight. That builder from Zagreb who converted the downstairs bog was good to us love.’
Today’s dating, for men at least means staying in, not going out. In a survey of 100 I personally interviewed 99 said they just wanted a raunchy night in under the duvet.
Women don’t have to put up thought with boring fart mentality from their menfolk. There’s so much more on offer, as I found out last night. Women of a certain age bracket (45 through to 70) are empowered. They have control over their social lives and have given up on men; because, let’s face it many men of this age bracket have given up on life and have one foot in the grave. There are tons of dating sites. Do you real need to date? You could be having more fun as a single lass.
I went to a dinner and dance last night, organized by an international social networking group called ‘Meet Up.’ There are groups formed to cater for all sorts of interests from sailing to walking to pub evenings and other social events. Thousands of people have met new friends this way and others just like to chat, face to face rather than over the internet with new and interesting people.
Here’s the link if you’re interested:
http://www.meetup.com
I didn’t know anyone on my table, but everyone was friendly and all were in the same boat with the joint aim of having fun, surrounded by tinsel and baubles and mixing with new people. I sat next to a bus driver, wearing a mauve silky shirt with plenty of stories about reversing his bus into places he shouldn’t. On my other side were two glamorous ladies in their late sixties with not a strand of grey on their heads. One of them told me she had pulled a 40 year old on a plane and spent the weekend in New York with him. She’d been married four times and life certainly wasn’t over for her. She was living a life of a twenty something.
The other lady in her late sixties was Indian. Recently divorced she had been married to a football fanatic couch potato for 40 years. For 40 years she had surffered old fart mentality from her husband. Each birthday and Christmas he asked her to write a list of what she wanted but then wanted her to ‘be more specific’ and tell her what item on the list she actually wanted. Invariably he was too lazy to go out to buy it so she would hit the sales with his cash in January. Romance? Doesn’t anyone know what that is? To cap it all the old fart even asked her what she wanted him to write in her birthday card, obviously too lazy and unimaginative.
With a renewed energy these ladies were determined to hide the bulges and wrinkles and get out again. We talked about slimming and weight, as women invariably do.
‘Girdles… do you wear them?’ The Indian lady asked me.
‘God no. It’s like wearing a wet suit.’ I replied.
‘I tried one on in the House of Frazer and wrestled to get it off, sweating and severely distressed. I’m only a 12 but this was a size 20 and I still couldn’t get it off.’
‘You have to push the fat around to disperse it I’m told.’ I said.
‘I said to the attendant I can’t bloody well sit in this. And she said they aren’t designed for sitting dates, they’re for standing dates.’
Someone I knew swaggered over for a chat while a line jostled and wove around the tables to the Makarena.
‘Have you heard about Zoe? She’s doing sex dating?’ He asked me.
‘Plenty are. A woman in the school playground is doing that. She’s married to a boring fart who sits in his vest watching telly all day so she arranges to meet a guy at a Travel Lodge for a few hours of unbridled sex. She says to me… darling why would I want sex with my overweight lump of a husband when I can get it from a 19 year old. I was shocked. Her son is 19.’
‘Well Zoe is doing the same thing.’
We both looked at each other, trying to fathom it all out. Zoe is a bank manager with a degree from Cambridge. In theory she should be able to date any man she wants with her looks and education. In theory she should be married to a high flyer with a big fuck off house and a sporty car who shows her a good time. But such men don’t exist anymore. Zoe’s life is in neat compartments, like so many other women. Her social life has been farmed out to Meet up. Her sex life is catered for on Tinder.
This is the way life is in the year 2015 for many people. I’m not judging. I’m quietly smiling. We women are empowered! We have choices and we don’t need to stay in dull relationships with men that make no effort!
If you like a good read I’ve written a book based, in part on my dating experiences. It’s called ‘The Catholic Woman’s Dying Wish’. Be careful though because it’s super naughty in places! Here’s the link:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Catholic-Womans-Dying-Wish-Things/dp/1511936703/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1448696512&sr=8-1&keywords=joanna+warrington