Someone to play Monica to my Chandler...

Prepare yourself. This is a rant and a depressing diatribe at that. This isn't going to be one of those helpful columns. Instead, I'm genuinely asking for your opinion. Notice I said opinion and not a cliché pat on the back, aw shucks; it'll be all right kinda crap comment.

I’m referring to the crapshoot that is dating.

Sometimes I think the gulf between the sexes is too wide. It boggles my mind how different we are from one another on just a general basis. Then you throw in the specifics like hobbies, mannerisms, life philosophies, views, ideas, perspectives, the works and we're suppose to traverse each other's psyche like a mental minefield in hopes of finding enough commonalities to bond with each other?

It all sounds like too much work.

We've all sat around day dreaming of, without investing the sweaty legwork of time, money, anguish and heartache, that perfect person who instantly knows, understands and LOVES us completely. This daydream-spawned personality is perfect and loves us for our imperfectness, including all our little quirks and inconsistencies. The problem with this daydream is, while temporarily satisfying, it eats time like a pothead at a buffet. It also periodically brings into sharp relief the reality that we DON'T have someone and that depresses us further.

It's thinking like this that leads one to understanding why the lifestyles of gays and lesbians is so appealing to liberal minded folk. Now hold your horses there, before you jump on your soap box about how gays and lesbian lifestyles are not choices, they are instead unchangeable genetic maps, blah, blah, (yes, I agree but) blah, understand this: it is folly to simply characterize someone as ignorant simply because they think, day dream, gossip, consider or wax philosophical about it being a choice. An amazing part of the human condition, which deals with all things stress related, is our ability to turn the other cheek. Sometimes a person can accept things so far and no further. Anyone who has come out of the closet to a parent and continues to share a very uncomfortable, “cheek turned in total denial” relationship with said parent knows exactly what I'm referring to.

The appeal comes from the notion that, and I’ll use myself as an example, since women are such a massive mystery to me, another man makes more sense. I mean, here is someone I can relate to before I even open my mouth (jokes ensue). He and I are the same sex. He and I are more likely to have the same mannerisms, like the same things, get off the same way, etc. Now try to remember, I’m talking about a momentary lapse in thought, another daydream borne from our desperate, frustrated selves, tired of coming away from a date scratching our heads and wondering, what the hell just happened.

The problem with THIS daydream is, every man at one time or another questions their sexuality in their life and some get it done and over with pretty early in their lives while others struggle with it for years or longer. I have no confusion as to which way my flag flies. I far prefer the smooth, soft caress of a woman to the bumpy, ugly, hairy stench of my own. In fact, so repulsive are my peeps that I am amazed that all women aren’t lesbians. Who would want to bump uglies with someone already bumpy and ugly…?!

Another problem is I suppose you never know how much in common you should have with a person where you can determine that said person is right for you. We’re all fishing and, never mind if it’s 5 pounds under weight. We’re happy we caught someone at all. We’re SO happy in fact that even if they aren’t right for us, we fight to make it work sometimes because we don’t want to be alone. We latch on and convince the other person that “It’ll all work out, let’s make this work.” What we’re really doing is holding this person until someone better comes along. Of course this is the wrong thing to do to someone else. It’s unfair and I personally wouldn’t want it done to me. To be used like that until they found someone better suited.

Of course I find it amazing that there are couples out there that mutually agree to use each other until someone better comes along. It’s like being alone is so undesirable that their willing to risk the pain and heartache that is inevitable when their partner finds that someone better.

Oh, and married people piss me off. Almost all my friends are married, happily. So if I mope about the fact that I’m single and lonely, I get to be an audience member at an improv display of public affection while they briefly thank God (silently) and each other (publicly & loudly) that they have someone and don’t have to do the single people dance anymore. Don’t get me wrong; my friends are just that (friends) and great ones too, but they’re a constant reminder that I’m not good enough to be married or I would already be, wouldn’t I?

So, being the social recluse that I am, I eventually get so lonely and bored with myself that I start not to care about all those things that make me have such low self confidence and I live the life of a hermit. I start to peek out of my shell and look around, go places, meet people, mingle! Man just saying the word nauseates me. I then meet someone who I have a smidgen of interest in, go out on a date and usually get hurt. Usually it’s me who’s getting rejected. Rare is the case that I’m the one rejecting. So I get hurt and go back to playing spinster once again.

And I suppose this cycle will continue until comes the day I get so tired of being lonely and desperate that I go out much more often until I finally win this crapshoot and hook up with someone just as lonely and desperate but by this time both hers and my defenses are so worn down, we don’t care anymore. So then I guess I have the future of being married to a stranger to look forward to.

When I die, I have SOO many questions for God. This is such a strange life with so many inconsistencies and so many opportunities for hurt and disappointment. God I hope I get the answers to my questions before I die. I think then my life will have meant something.

A peak into the abyss...

So, as a few of my friends know, I've been given to helping out a few unfortunate people.

One of those people is named Dot. That's not really her name, but she wishes to remain anonymous and she doesn't want the deep dark personal demons of her past exploited either and I've promised her that. This isn't about the dirt on Dot, but rather the tragedy of her situation.

She is a victim of Katrina and, in my opinion, a victim of alchoholism. At first, she rented a unit here at my storage facility and I/we soon found out that she was spending a LOT of time in the unit. Like LIVING time. She was caught sleeping in it several times and, after politely but firmly explaining to her that she couldn't continue doing so, it came time for her to either find another place or for us to turn the other cheek. For the sake of my job security, we'll just say she found another place.

But she often found her way back here either to talk and pass the time or to borrow money as she was often in need. And everyone who knows me knows... well, what do you know? That I've got "sucker" written atop my forehead? That my heart is softer than whipped cream and readily available on my sleeve? That Wal-Mart loves me because I keep returning to their Men's department to replace the shirt off my back that I keep giving out? Whatever analogy you wish to use, know this, I am so much more worried about my conscience which is far more critical of my actions than the part of my brain that's concerned with what other's think about me. Would that some other people in my past smoked the same left handed cigarettes that I apparently do.

Dot visits on occasion, usually because she needs a favor but every time she does, she loves to sit and chat. Understand that Dot has no tv, no job, no "busy" life to speak of filled with "important" errands and "critical" goals. The quotes equal sarcasm in case you're wondering. No, Dot's Things to do list is somewhat short and includes such mundane ambitions as Survival and Pass the Time. So when she gets the opportunity to bend someone's ear, she does so with great vigor. Unfortunately, another thing she does with even greater vigor is drink. And it is the combination of drink and her desire to share her dark past the helps me understand (careful, I said understand, not condone) her desire to drink.

See, Dot's had a shit life. Sure, perspective is a kaleidoscopic lens dependent on the eye of the beholder and anyone can say anyone has had a crap life. But it's my faith in your ability to read the heavy sarcasm and ridiculous understatement when I say that Dot's had a crap life. Without painting a detailed picture, I'll just drop keywords like Catholic, married, cheating husband and years later revelations of sexual abuse of a child by aforementioned winner of a husband which lead to death of said child when he was an adult. And according to her, this was just a taste.

So I bet you are wondering what the purpose of this post is, eh? No? No, you'd rather hear more about Dot. Well tough tater tots, this is MY blog: I had to get all this off my chest because I've been a couple of times accused of being an idiot. Some people I know, their names will remain anonymous, have shaken their collective heads at me and have bestowed upon me what is supposed to be some glorious revelation that I am a stupid head.

The purpose of this missive is to tell them/you, you/they are wrong! I'm not an idiot. I'm simply ME. This is who I am. This is what I do. Think about this for a minute. If I followed your advise and told Dot to piss off, does that sound like Mike Murphy to you? No. No, it's not me. Y'know what happens if I tell Dot to seek help elsewhere? Nothing. Nothing happens. Maybe she goes on about her way. Maybe she finds help elsewhere. Maybe she doesn't. Maybe she dies alone. Maybe mine is the last saving act that prolongs her life just a little bit more. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

I can't abide by "maybe" but hear me now, I will be God damned if I turn my back on someone and risk a negative outcome. I don't know where I stand religiously but it's not in me to ignore that saying that we've all heard as kids, just because I'm an adult. The saying? "Do onto others..." I don't even have to finish it because you can do it in your head.

Shake your head. Tell me to be careful and have faith that I will. I'm an adult. Yes, it would be tragic for something bad to happen, something beyond my control that jeopardizes my life and livelyhood and puts me in an untenable position. But I believe in God. I have faith in a higher power. It doesn't mean I'm gonna start walking into traffic or stepping of buildings. It just means that I believe God wants me to help.

If I find the Dot is continually abusing my help with no end in sight, then I'll take a different approach. But I don't want this to become the seed of an "I told you so" affair. I love, value and appreciate your care, your concern and most of all, your support. Almost all of my friends are married with children and it says something that if you are willing to stand behind me, your friend, even when I'm doing something unpopular to you, you will be able to do it when your own children are grown adults, making similar unpopular decisions all the while still needing your love and support.

Just think of this as practice.