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When I was 16, my Father decided to exploit my newly found driving privileges so he and a few of his buddies could go play some golf, get hammered, and then have me come pick them up. I dropped them off at the course around 11 a.m. and he would call my cell phone when they were ready to go home. I was then tasked with the chore of lying around the house on a Saturday night instead of trying to get a girl to let me feel her boobs over her shirt. Who knows? Maybe that over-the-shirt-boob-feel could’ve resulted in a hand-j or *gasp* even a beej.
Well, wouldn’t you know it, my cell phone rings at 2:30 a.m. and my old man his bombed requesting his ride home. For those keeping count at home, that’s a four-hour round of golf followed by a solid eleven-and-a-half hours of hard boozing.
I pick up my dad and his friends (all of whom lived in our neighborhood) and drop them off one by one. Prior to the final drop off, my dad’s friend spouted what might be the greatest piece of advice I have ever heard:
“Holy shit, my wife’s gonna be pissed at me. Never get married, Billy. Save your money and buy golf clubs.”
Seriously sage advice.
So I took that advice and employed it well for the next 14 years of my life. I was a man on the prowl only interested in the next hot piece of ass to walk in front of me. I could not be tied down and no amount of home cooked dinners, blowjobs or wealthy parents could tell me otherwise. In my mind, I was destined for a life of bachelorhood. A life free of monetary squabbles, petty arguments and having to explain myself. That’s the life I wanted to live.
As I type this out I almost want to laugh at how much living the old man lifestyle has changed me. My youthful arrogance destined me to be single for the rest of my life. But now that I am old, I lack the certain vigor that once came quite naturally. Before, I wouldn’t turn my head for anything less than an 8 (piece of advice: this is a good way to have an INCREDIBLY low batting average). Now, I have found myself with a nice, quiet girl who I get along with swimmingly. She generally lets me do whatever I want and gives me space when I require it. Hell, she even agreed to let me set up a small man room in our cramped apartment.
I guess what I am getting at is, no matter what you youngsters view as your future in relationships…it’s going to change. Granted, I have a few buddies who are still holding strong, but almost all of my friends have caved into submission. It’s not like one day I woke up and was tired of all the energy I had to put forth in chasing girls. It was more of a slow, gradual war of attrition that took over and eventually won.
Despite what might seem like a total loss for me, I have come to accept my fate and am more or less cool with it. On the plus side, I have conditioned the Mrs. to believe a round of golf takes approximately 9 hours…and I just got a new set of irons. My dad’s buddy would be proud. .
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