The Male Biological Clock

by

Feb 26, 2007

Quick update:  I’ve moved cities again.  Same job, different office, 4 hours away.  I know almost nobody.

So, when I was introduced to someone via a mutual friend, I went on my first date in years.  (And years, and years, and years.)

He seemed like a nice guy.  Personable, presentable, funny, interesting.  All good, right?

Our first date consisted of dinner and a long chat.  He was a complete gentleman and seemed interested in what I had to say.  He was interesting himself - he had traveled, had done lots of things in his life and seemed like he wasn’t a psycho.  He is 37 and (gasp) a fireman - you can see I really wasn’t entirely responsible for my actions in going out with him in the first place.

Our second date was, however, a horse of a different colour.

Somehow during the post-dinner conversation (and don’t even ask me how this came up because I haven’t got the faintest clue), he dropped a bomb.

"I need to know what you want out of this", he said, startling me considerably.

"Uh..." I fumbled, trying to figure out what in the world he was talking about.  It couldn’t be "us" because there was no "us" - I’d had two meals with the man.  With some trepidation, I waited for him to continue.

"Because I want to get married and have children.  And I’d like to marry a woman with the same values that I have.  She’d have to give up her career to care for the children."

WTF???!!!  What sort of topic of conversation is this to bring up the second time I’d clapped eyes on the man?!  A man, I might add, who had yet to even kiss me goodnight.

"I don’t really want to waste my time, if this isn’t what you’re into", he continued, as I struggled to pick my jaw up off the floor.

Jeez, I know I’m a catch, but this all seemed a bit sudden.  Sensing my hesitation (which anyone else would have correctly construed as shock and panic), he put another offer on the table.

"We could try the "friends with benefits" thing, if you like.  You know, sleep together but not be in a relationship."

Needless to say, I was mightily insulted by the subtext, which I translated as "I’m more than happy to have sex with you until something better comes along." 

I told him that I wasn’t interested in THAT either.

"Or we could just be friends - no sex - and see where it goes."

Or, I thought to myself, I could finally figure out how that "call blocking" feature on my new phone works.  Seems a bit soon to think of moving again, but if needs must...

Is *this* the sorry state that dating has gotten itself into while I’ve been on hiatus??  How have all you poor things survived it?

The evening ended rather awkwardly and of course, led to another even more awkward conversation some days later (before I discovered the call display feature on my phone).

"I wasn’t asking you to marry me right away", he began.  "I just don’t want to waste my time."

But, I thought, you’re quite willing to shag the eyes out of me until Mrs. Right comes along.  Charming.  I would have laughed if he hadn’t been completely serious.

Since that little discussion, I’ve been avoiding him like the plague.  And he’s been calling - oh God, has he been calling!  And I can’t quite figure out why:  I’m not going to marry him, I’m not going to be his booty call - WTF does this boy imagine is here for him?

I talked it over with Natalie and apart from pegging him accurately as a man with a biological clock on overdrive, she told me to go with my gut and jettison him.  As if there were ever any question about that!  It was simply a matter of deciding how to go about it.

Now, the way I see it, there are several ways to do this.

1.  The Honourable Dump:  "I’m sorry Mr. Wonderful, but I have no ambitions to be changing your brat’s diapers and giving up my career to devote my life to you (especially since I earn two and a half times what you do)".

2.   The Feeling Saver:  "I’m just not good enough for you, Mr. Wonderful.  Although I’m aware of the great honour you’re doing me by even considering me as marriage/booty call material, I’m afraid I’d disappoint you by not being servile and obedient enough to your every whim."

3.   The Chickenshit (my personal favourite):  Screen all my calls, avoid him like the plague, thank the stars for my lucky escape and berate the friend who told me he was a "nice guy".

Right, that’s decided:  number three it is.  However, I have every confidence that no matter how hardcore I am about implementing the Chickenshit Strategy, he’ll eventually track me down and demand an explanation.

If that happens, I suppose I’ll trot out the "it’s not you: it’s me" line and whatever else I think he might fall for.

In the meantime, however, he has managed singlehandedly and in record time, to persuade me to forgo the wonderful world of dating for the foreseeable future.  If this is representative of what is going on out there, I want no part of it.

Till next time,

Morrigan