Holy Shit! I am getting old.

                As I stood there in flip-flops, feet soaked in mud from the torrential downpours of rain at the West Seneca Community Days beer tent the other night; I realized that “Holy shit, I’m getting old!” I am 34 years old, a divorced father; I don’t want to be one of those parents that just have random “Strange” (For those of you that do not know, Strange is a reference to random one night hook ups from Two and a half Men)around my son. Sure I am fond of looking at the hot pieces of ass in their early 20’s just as much as the next guy, but the thought of ever treating one of them other than a one night stand kind of makes me cringe. I had a similar thought a few weeks earlier at the beach, but now I think that it is actually setting in.

                Sure these girls are fun to look at, dressing all slutty while showing off their assets which are all still perky and firm. Talking to these girls is just an utter nightmare though… I felt like an intellectual giant in some of the conversations that I had had Friday night. Just the utter sloppiness in their drunken state was enough to annoy me. Years back, this would be like target practice, picking up girls like this in this condition was like shooting fish in a barrel. Young and dumb, that was a staple in my earlier years… they were easily impressed with the little bit of clout that you can deal at that age within the bars. To them it was a status thing, if you knew the bouncers, bartenders or owners, you were golden. You would have disposable ass at your fingertips. Oh the  things whores value at such a young age… how bad do you think that they feel about their past actions when they mature into responsible adults or a young single parent, which ever happens first. Then we have the type that never mature, but that is a topic for another time.

                Sure I was in my glory the other night, drinking, hanging with friends, checking out the ladies, making fun of idiots, blurting random things… oft offensive may I add.  Sometimes I’m not exactly sure what reaction I am going for when statements leave my lips. Maybe it is just the reaction that happens in response whether it is laughter, shock or anger. I actually had the thought of making a documentary on Urban White Guys (“Wiggers” as some people refer to them as, there is potential for racial tension in this word so I will refer to them as Urban White Guys) in their natural habitat, the Suburbs, so they can see how ridiculous they are (I actually may do this.) Most of all, I was actually enjoying the ladies all rain  soaked in their barely there outfits.

 One particular twit kept trying to squeeze through our area that we were parked in, and I basically felt every curve of her body pressed against mine as she had passed through. The only thing that had come to mind was to look at her and say “wow I almost feel like we just had sex…” I was expecting to get the look of death from her eyes, but instead I get the Valley Girl “giggle giggle, Oh really, he-he-he” response. Was I losing my offensive touch, granted that was not my best work, but I figured it was repulsive enough for her to get the hint and stop pushing through the crowd near us. I talked to her for a brief minute after this exchange as she was really cute. I probably could have gotten her number or more as she was just eating up whatever I had spewed (just me, it was just spew because I was moderately hammered at this point), but the thought of having conversations with a wall metaphorically just drove me absolutely insane.  

                I had talked to another attractive girl during the night; she was trying to crash a picture that the boys and I were posing for. I caught her out the corner of my eye as this type of sabotage amuses me, and introduce myself. Very cute, blond hair, blue eyes a smart ass in her own right… but her downfall was her age, she was 22. I talked to her a bit, but her friend was the queen of cock blocking... If she was not getting attention, neither was her friend. OK bitch; ruin an opportunity for your friend to get laid. I was over it quickly as I am not into putting that much effort to fight through the obvious effort of her friend to stop any potential fun that may be brewing. Maybe subconsciously it was the fact that my divorce is still fairly fresh, or maybe that I just couldn’t stand hanging out with someone of that younger mindset. I don’t believe it was the divorce factor as I am out starting to talk to ladies again, the prior months I just avoided such situations like the plague. I’m just going to have to be selective in who I choose to make contact with. Hell if large amounts of alcohol with scantily clad slutty girls didn’t push me, what will?

 I still do not know if I will ever get into another serious relationship. I’m not sure if I am capable of it. All I know is that I’m a little older, a little wiser, still an asshole at times, and I will never seriously date anyone in their early twenties… I guess that we will chalk that up to progress. One more step in the progressions of life. When (If) I do take the plunge and start dating again, she is going to be the total package, a keeper… maybe that is what worries me most.