The Female Conspiracy

The nice thing about being 40 and single is you no longer have to date teenage girls (and in most states are forbidden from doing so) and having to suffer through long hours of conversation where she patiently explains the way she'd like to be only to leave you the next day for someone who is exactly everything she told you she didn't want.

The nice thing about being 40 and single is you no longer have to date twenty-something girls (not that you ever stop wanting to) with killer bodies and a party attitude who you find drunk as a skunk in a back room sucking the cock of a gentleman with a nicer car than you.

The nice thing about being 40 and single is you no longer have to date thirty year old women who are dedicated either to their career (around which your time and energy must be scheduled) or dedicated to having children RIGHT FUCKING NOW and if you can't deliver she'll find someone who can.

The nice thing about being 40 and single is you get to date 40 something year old women. These women have dated assholes, both successful and unsuccessful, men who still lived in their parents' basement, men with no futures, no jobs, no steady income, no energy, no ambition, and no indication of every wanting to improve. They've been through the "I can change them" syndrome, and they're ready to settle.

Many of the these women are ready for Mr. Right, but have certain "needs" (sex) and are willing to hang out with someone who is halfway decent like yours truly. I have a steady income, a car that doesn't belong to the bank, an easy, relaxed non-judgmental attitude, a sense of humor and a healthy libido.

This woman becomes the "friend with benefits", at least until Mr. Right comes along. This woman is willing to settle for a man like myself who is a little bit of an asshole, but not so much that he's unbearable, and at other times is generally sweet, encouraging, but is honest about not wanting a relationship. Many of these women have joined yours truly in not wanting a long term commitment, because they (like me) value their independence and freedom, but it's awfully damn nice to have someone to sit with at the movie theater, to smack strawberry jelly with at the Poteet Strawberry Festival, and finally return home to shed clothing and inhibitions for no less than thirty minutes, but no more than forty five, unless I'm drunk and can't get it up, but she gets around this by making me drive . . . but I digress.

If all you sisters stuck together, I'd be in a pretty bad pickle, an extra sour one. It's because women give into the "friends with benefits" theory of life that men like me get to keep on keeping on in life without having to get married . . . or having to hire prostitutes.

The problem with abstinence and celibacy is it defies the basic human programming. God, Mother Nature, Life and/or the Universe wants us to fuck. You want to fuck. I want to fuck. If we met, we might like to fuck each other. Granted, I don't have as much stamina as your pink buddy with the double A batteries, but I'm human, warm, funny, unpredictable, sweet, tender, brutal and I pay for dinner and a movie without complaint (including gas). I also smell nice when I'm really being considerate.

I know there's a philosophy out there that says, "Ladies, don't give him sex until you're sure you're in a relationship, committed or otherwise". It's good advice, and it works like gangbusters when women can stick to it, and many can and have. But at the first stumble, the body, male or female, will always default to . . . fuck it, let's find someone to have sex with to accomplish any of the following goals:

Get back at him.
Feel desirable again.
Get crazy to relieve stress.
Relieve the loneliness.
Relieve the pent up libido.

And so on. . . .

I've done a lot of things I wouldn't otherwise have been tempted to do because of the shape of a particular woman's ass, breasts, smile, eyes, and so on, because I wanted her to smile, because I wanted her to like me, because I wanted her to part her thighs, because I wanted her.

It's okay. I'm comfortable with being manipulated, because I know women are also being manipulated by men, by women, by moms, by peer pressure, and by their own libido and ticking biological clock.

Thank God most conspiracies fail. If this one had succeeded, I'd be married again, and I'm enjoying being single too much right now.

Of course, the girl with the right smile, the right glitter to her eyes, and the right dirty joke on her gleaming, wet lips could change all that.

Aaron Diaz Hoal
August 9th, 2009

Date Me . . . you know you want to.

I might be married, but you won't know for sure until we've slept together, after which I will absolutely not, under any conditions, call you the next day . . . or ever for that matter. Well, Saturday night when I've had one too many and feeling a little horn--er, lonely, I might call you then.

It's too late in the battle for equality for me, the man, to pay for dinner, or to drive or to dress nice. You'll need your own car and good plastic. Also, you might go ahead and bring some condoms so I don't have to make any extra stops, though if all goes well you'll be picking me up at my place and returning me there after the date. Please lock the door on your way out in the morning. You might also consider feeding the dog, changing the cat litter and cleaning up a little.

On the first date, I promise at some point to pull down your top and go "Brrrrrrr!" between your breasts, because I know you girls love that, the attention, the admiration, etc. I also guarantee to let you go first through every door and up any stairs or escalators for the sole purpose of watching, and commenting on, your ass. I swear to comment on every other halfway attractive woman, pointing out the parts of their body that are supremely better than yours, and giving you a "I'm just kidding" expression, but which will also have that "Not really" gleam in the eyes. I may or may not nod off during your endless chattering. I snore. It's best to let me wake up on my own, otherwise I tend to get violent. You might consider talking less and listening more. I will have endless conversation about drinking, fucking, sports, video games, other women, my life, my interests, things that piss me off, things that REALLY piss me off, and the time I almost stuck my dick in a cow. Laugh. A lot, and nod, and smile, and lick your lips to let me know you're actually listening.

I will bring lots of drama into your life, and lots of chaos. I like games, emotional games, sexual games, board games, bored games, games where I call you lots of bad things, but only to help lower your self esteem. We both know that makes you more manageable and that you secretly love it. I will admit that I'm not much of a hitter, so sadly you'll have to go somewhere else for any physical abuse. I'll take care of the emotional and verbal sabotage though. We're all weak in one area or another; this is mine.

I won't be isolating you from your friends, unless they're married, give good advice or are otherwise unavailable to me. I wouldn't dream of telling you to get rid of any girl friends that I might be able to sleep with behind your back. Don't worry, you'll find out, that's what drama is all about.

I'm not an attractive man, nor am I thin or young, but you should be both young (or look young) and thin. Don't worry, it doesn't meant I won't date you. It only means I get to taunt you with calls of "fatty" and that you have to go to the gym daily and stop eating, but it's okay, because you're doing it to please me and that's what's important. Also, your breasts should be in decent shape, a nice size and not too saggy. You might consider plastic surgery, implants, tucks, etc. Again, you're doing it for me, but you'll need to finance this yourself.

Girls who are exempt from dating me:

• Anyone nicknamed "princess". We don't need two high-maintenance people in the "relationship".
• Anyone with more than one kid. Shoving one kid off constantly on a friend or family member is perfectly acceptable, but after that your house starts to look and smell like kids live, vomit and poop there. I don't want to meet them and I won't be their new daddy. I don't "do" kids, in any sense of the word. Exception: if you have a daughter that is or is nearing 18, but she better be hot.
• Anyone who is already dating (or married to) someone who is already more of an asshole than me. You don't need me and what fun is that?
• Anyone with family nearby, unless you hate them, then we're in business.
• Anyone in therapy. Unless the therapist has a drinking or drug problem.
• Fat chicks. Don't worry, we can still have sex in between your episodes of starving yourself and going to the gym, but we can't be seen together until you can fit it into your size 4 jeans (or smaller).

I drink. A lot. I smoke. All kinds of substances, even dog poop once, but it was an accident. I frequently have problems with erections, so I probably won't last very long, but don't worry, I'll get off. You may or may not. You'll just have to get faster. Also, I don't do oral, but you will, and you'll probably have to learn to love anal and some other rather nasty things. It just depends on the kind of day I've had and how much I've had to drink.

And I'd like to add I'm very open minded. It doesn't bother me if you have tattoos and piercings everywhere or if you think you might be a lesbian or half lesbian or 1/4 lesbian.

Aaron Diaz Hoal

(Originally published 7/23/08)