It’s one of those unforeseen consequences of my actions. Something that even if I had given some aforethought, I’m not entirely sure I could have affected the outcome. Namely — having any friends.
For the last 20 years (or just about TC’s age), I’ve had a busy work life, traveling around, always on the phone, I was plenty engaged with other people and by the time I got home, I didn’t want anything to do with them. I was content to go to Home Depot, involve myself in some project and lay on the floor playing blocks with my kids. If we had any social life, my wife organized it and I came along for the ride. Weekends were for my little family.
Sadly, this experience, some of my own doings and general reality of ‘how’ the world actually works, has left me jaded about this whole concept of having friends. Seems like a lot of work with relatively few benefits. But perhaps that just my own experience and perhaps as well because of the way I set things up.
The issue is that married men for the most part are all along for the ride. Their wives set the social agenda, factor in a couple of kids and between school, sports, their own friends, Dad is happy if he gets to wash the car or read a book uninterrupted. While guys, I have plenty of uninterrupted time now and looking for ideas on how to spend it.
The early gay guy got his fag hag and clutch of other assorted fruits and invented their own ecosystem. TC is an ideal example of this. The only people he hangs out with are people he’s known since High School. I’m the newbie in his group (and pants – my tiger). I suspect it’s a common story.
But I/we are not a common story and uncommon stories require uncommon actions. So I have to embark upon some methodology of ‘putting myself out there’. I haven’t figured out the model yet. Bars and clubs aren’t the answer. Nor is hanging out at the local grocer (though I play a mean bumper car with my shopping cart). It’s not easy, hopefully I’m up to the task.