Of selfishness and a dearth of men

It was a couple of weeks back now, that it hit me. Well, it had hit me before, but as with all epiphanies, the coming together of everything has a particularly profound effect.

So I got dragged to one of these Afro-fusion thingies at Alliance Francaise. A quite decent affair, and something different for a Friday evening. And plenty of lovely ladies. But I'll try not to get ahead of myself. Ended up meeting a couple of guys I knew. I'm sure they were as surprised to see me there as I was to see them. At some point I got chatting to one of these long lost friends. Typical conversation tu; how he'd really love to be a farmer. The liberation of just getting on his bike [the fuel powered kind], ride to nowhere, pitch a tent and camp out. I envy the guy. In the middle of all the reflection, he made another observation. That a whole bunch of women there were looking for a man. I don't exactly have a trained eye at identifying man hunters, but a look around made me think he was probably right. Women just about outnumbering men, some in groups of twos or threes, with guys apparently taking in the performances, and the likes of the two of us engrossed in conversations about [mid] life. I've known for a while that there are a lot of lonely people in this town. And the globe. It's the only explanation I could come up with for all those hook-up sites. A sad state of affairs.

I used to object vehemently at the claim that there are no good men. Until I got tired of making the same arguements and started responding to that phrase with an indifferent look back at the proponent. What a good man is is a mystery as great as the all the other great ones. But there may actually be a dearth of any kind of [interested] men. On most all [few] nights out it hits me how many women there are around. Beauties. It's also been interesting to observe the number of guys who are just content to sit and have their drink, or football, or both, without paying [undue] attention to the ladies. Really unfortunate. My heart bleeds when I see a lass dancing all by her lonesome. Like that chic at K2. Bleeds.

But apparently, by doing the running man as far as [potential] women are concerned, I'm not helping the situation. Indeed the word selfish has been thrown my way a couple of times. It's been a while since I put myself out there.