Cyrenaic

Cyrenaic

Wednesday, July 28, 2021

A glimmer of hope in a sea of shittyness—my search for the perfect woman—or just a female schmuck continues.

 By Steve Otto

This morning I was at Dudley’s, or as I call it, the little bar. An older woman came up to me and joked around with me. I didn’t know her. She told me she is married and her husband would kill her if he knew what she was doing. The important here is that after all this time, since my wife died, someone paid attention to me.

What was interesting is that this woman was very old—almost too old for me. But it seems like, since my wife died, older women my own age or older look through me like I’m made of glass. The only women to pay any attention to me at all have been a few that I have met in some bars and one that I met at a march and they are all way  younger than me. I still haven’t had a date, but at least a few women have talked to me.

I have been going to Elite Singles, a web site that tries to match people up with people their own age. And how many dates have I got in the last month? “Zero!” And that damn thing cost me money. Either I’m repulsive to other women, the site just really sucks or both. I’m guessing it’s a little of both.

Since my wife died in January I have been very alone—and I do mean VERY ALONE, since then. I am 66 years old and not as charming as I was in my 40s and 30s. And I can’t help that. I actually look better than a lot of people my age. And don’t count my insides because I would really look shitty if people could see inside me.

Yes—I hope some day I have sex again. I think that is reasonable to want. I don’t have any reason to not have sex and for all of those women who say the don’t really want or need sex, don’t hook up with me. AIN’T gonna work!!!

I have met one woman on line and I already dumped her as a friend, but I’m changing my mind about her and I may visit here in Ohio because I’m bored and alone. She is like that woman and the Woody Allen character in the movie “Play it again Sam.”

He says “what are you doing Saturday?” She answers “I’m committing suicide.” He then says “What about Friday?” She walks away.

So this trip I might take is pure insanity but what do I have to lose from it? I’m bored and alone—emphasis on bored. What is the worst that can happen?  I can’t imagine anything that bad happening. And if I end up frustrated and humiliated once again, did I really miss anything? I don’t think so.

So for all those who don’t like reading this—fuck it. And by that what I really mean is “unfuck it.”[1]



[1] Lenny Bruce: "Fuck you." Never understood that insult, because fucking someone is actually really pleasant. If we're trying to be mean, we should say "unfuck you!"



 

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