Over the last couple of weeks several of the gentlemen bloggers on my reading list have taken to defending men, good men, stubborn men, even silly men. Munene Gangi in his characteristically sober approach bemoans the haunting of today’s man (Enemy of the state). Cheupe in a suspiciously deep moment bemoans the emasculation of today’s man (Eulogy for the men). And Flani, special Flani, he doesn’t bemoan, he bestrides the plains, raising the clarion call for chauvinist pigs (Black jack). Now I don’t know about you, but I like to read men talking about men, it offers a rare peek into the workings of the male (and I use this term most loosely) brain. That said, you geniuses are not being very helpful. Gentlemen, while I appreciate your insights, or lack thereof, depending, I think you’re missing the point. All we really want to know is, where the hell are all the half decent chaps?
I went on a ‘not a date’ date over the weekend, with a man who in theory is everything I’ve been looking for in a man. He’s a grown man i.e. he’s older than me; without a wife or children i.e. mythical creature akin to a unicorn, unseen in these parts since the turn of the last century; he’s educated i.e. has a real degree not printed on River Road; worldly i.e. has knowledge extending beyond our borders; he even has that ‘salt and pepper’ partly-grey goatee thing that gets me weak at the knees. What more could a girl ask for?
And then I met his girlfriend. Emphasis here on girl.
There are days I wonder why I even bother to leave the house at all…
This is the reality of being a 30 something single woman in this city. The men your age won’t date you because you’re too old and therefore must have more issues than a straight priest. The older men are only too happy to date you, as long as you’re willing to be tagged wife number two and accompany him to the farm and such like elder statesman-like activities. The younger men are also very happy to date you, as long as you are willing to pay for their mani/pedis, buy them drinks at the bar and let them drive your German 4x4 (if you don’t have one then they have no interest in you…). And I haven’t even mentioned the married types, of all ages, who think you’re the ideal clande, seeing as how you have an abode all of your own, and a job/income, a match made in heaven according to the cheating bastards. You don’t believe me, ask Ms Spinster , she’ll back me up (Read this, DON'T PICK!, its brilliant!). All I’m saying is that it’s hard out here…
Now some out here would tell me to just accept the situation as it is and go with the flow. Date the older dude, they say, if you want to settle down, he’ll give you the kids and the farm in Ol Kalau, and probably a couple of shares in EABL or EA Cables. On the other hand, date the younger man if you’re looking for fun times out on the town every night, a pretty little thing to carry your dog, someone you can drag to Blankets and Wine in Nanyuki. Or you could always date the married one, if you’re looking to spend time with a man your age, who feels you when Notorious’ Big Poppa comes on in the club and you’re the only two idiots nodding your heads and sipping on (not) Hennessy like you’re in a Jacuzzi. Or best of all, date all three, that way you can have your cakes and eat them.
Or not.
I choose to reject this flawed advice and instead insist on looking for a single 30 something year old man who feels my vibe. Which is how I end up watching the man I may one day have a crush on fondling a toddler. Don’t panic, she wasn’t really a toddler, but she can’t have been more than 24, and in my head that’s a youngling. Explain this to me, oh lovely gentlemen in your 30’s, what is the attraction? Aside from the tight young body and naïve little mind… Ha! Forget I asked, I get it now. But surely there has to be more to this story than the way these girls look, and they do look good. Please tell me there’s more to it. Tell me that you get a kick out of seeing their innocent smiles and greedy appetites for all that life has to offer, that I can sort of understand, sort of. Tell me, however, that you enjoy having pointless conversations about Hanna Montana and Justin whatshisface, and I’m struggling. Tell me that you love the massive ego boost you get confusing girls who were born when you were in your late teens and, so help me, I will slap you. There has to be a line, there just has to be…
I am tired of dating idiots.
Just this once I’d love to go out with a grown ass man who likes grown ass women. That’s it. I don’t expect you to be as hot as Tyson Beckford , or as smart as my man Goodluck, or as rich as DJ CK (without the polycolor, ideally), I just want a sane man who isn’t interested in chasing children. Or cheating on his wife. And is straight. Is that really too much to ask for? Stop nodding.