Dating Race

i often think that i am too far behind in the dating game to ever make a good play of it. resignation fills the air like stale gym socks fill the locker room with that stale gym sock smell. (horrid simile intentional). i’ve still no idea what i’m doing. pretty much ever. everything gets recycled, masticated over and over until this gruel that is bewilderment serves up another helping of ‘whateverness.’ i’m at least competent with every other aspect of my life, and since my life is already one-​third finished and settling down for the long haul, why rock the dream-​boat by attempting to force my nerdilicious pre-​adolescent knowledge of relationships into a semblance of maturity? i’m already too far behind the pack to catch up to the stragglers. how many people do i know who are getting married? a lot. how much confidence do i have? { }. The Null Set. what would confidence get me? perhaps a date in which i would have the chance to parade my ignorance in front of someone relatively close to my age with a quite healthy sex life and a working knowledge of ‘how this thing is done.’ its like that dream when you are naked at school and its really cold out so ‘your boys’ are all shriveled and everyone laughs at you because you are naked at school and have a miniscule penis. except its not really like that. because that is a dream. and this is real.