One of my charming lady friends writes a monthly column in one of the expat mags here. She's a good writer and it's always an amusing read. Kind of depressing for me, though, sometimes.
This month she is complaining about how there is such a dearth of suitable single males in Beijing that she has been forced to resort to an online dating site to try to find a boyfriend. She grumbles that all the friends she has here are either female, far too young, or gay. Er, hello - what does that make me? Gay??
I mean, I'm not saying that I'm interested necessarily - but all the same, it would have been nice to merit a few nanoseconds' consideration in this survey of the scene..... maybe just the tactful insertion of a 'nearly' in the article: "nearly all my friends here are female, 26 years old, or gay."
Or does she actually think I'm gay??!!
Maybe I need to lay off the White Russians, stop talking about cooking so much, and start acting more manly.....
12 comments:
hahaha. oh dear. really Froog, don't take it so personally.
I'm sure she chose her words for publishing purposes rather than for their veracity.
However, that fact that you almost never make a move on any of the amazing beautiful women with whom you surround yourself, might make her think you'r just not interested (note, i don't think that makes her think you'r gay.)
Go for Madame X. Make a big scene of it. Let the world (and Madame X) know just how very interested you are.
You mean you aren't gay, Froog?
Only in the 'happy and carefree' sense, Cowboy.
You are most definitely ginger, but I forgive you for it. Let us not speak of these things again.
My lovely writer friend has apologised to me for her indirect libel, claiming "artistic licence".
I am only partly appeased. A satisfying sulk takes at least 48 hours.
Ms Tulsa has a point. Your extreme passivity around the opposite sex, paralysed as you are by your infatuation with Madame X, means that, while she may not suppose that you are gay, your friend may view as tantamount to that, in that you are clearly not 'in the game', not available boyfriend material.
Perhaps you should ask this writer out. If she is your friend, and she's looking for a boyfriend, and she is, as you say, "lovely", she would seem to be an ideal candidate.
I fear it has been far too long since you went out with someone, Master Froog. Don't leave it too much longer. Unlike riding a bicycle, it involves some skills which can be forgotten.
"Happy and carefree" are not, I would say, the first words I would use to describe you, me old mucker.
And tread carefully, before you feel the wrath of the Red Mafia. Ging Pride!
Yeah, yeah, Cowboy. But in the morning I shall be sober.
Snopes you old bastard, leave me alone. As if my life isn't complicated enough without starting to consider that I could fancy my friends. Leave me alone!
"Unlike riding a bicycle, it involves some skills which can be forgotten."
well-said Snopes.
Froog, don't be mean. Snopes, certainly do not leave him alone.
TBC, Froog has his "happy and carefree" moments. He's been putting on a fantastic show of it recently whilst trying to convince me all is well in the world and that I shouldn't mope over lost... well, lost things.
And what is this "ginger" and "Ging Pride" all about? Tell. Tell.
P.S. I am encouraging Froog to spend some of his time writing a manual, or at least a Post for Beijing's women on how to meet men in this town.
I say, it's a perfect opportunity for him to lay out the obvious that his otherwise artistically licensed female friends might be missing.
Help me out. Encourage Froog.
I don't remember that suggestion, T. But I was very, very drunk at the time.
Asking me for advice on dating does seem a bit like asking Tamburlaine to lecture on humanitarian aid.... but I will give it try. And dating advice for women??!!
Hmmm, this will take quite a lot of thought.
1. Froog approach to alcohol: 1) Regard consumption of alcohol without scruple or regard to health or other future effects. 2) Have as much alcohol available at home as possible. 3) Frequent places of sale of alcohol frequently. 4) Embrace any known form of alcohol while retaining a preference for certain types and a degree of snobbishness concerning others. 5) Allow no moral, practical or legal impediment to the consumption of as much alcohol as possible. 6) Enjoy alcohol liberally with no form of emotional or ethical hang-up concerning its consumption 7) Do not give a toss for what others think of alcohol consumption - indeed give little heed to the thought.
2. Mothman approach to alcohol: 1) Regard alcohol as something best avoided given its future effects 2) Keep no alcohol at home other than for cleaning purposes 3) Avoid places of sale of alcohol as somehow immoral and certainly tedious. 4) Avoid any known form of alcohol irrespective of type or cachet. 5) Make as many excuses as possible to avoid alcohol wherever humanly possible. 6) Be afraid of the potential of alcohol for mind-altering and other emotional and psychological effects 7) Have this lingering feeling that perhaps am less of a man for not really craving alcohol; feel ought to do so but heart isn’t really in it.
3. Mothman approach to women: See (1) above replacing the word ‘alcohol’ with the word ‘women’.
4. Froog approach to women: See (2) above replacing the word ‘alcohol’ with the word ‘women’
I am left wondering : which is worse - being a closet teetotaller or being a closet asexual? Discuss.
I am out of the closet as an asexualist. Did you miss that Asexualismo post over on 'Barstool Blues'? I even put a link to it in the sidebar.
However, I am not as singleminded in adherence to the creed, as thoroughgoing in my principles of avoidance as you are.
Do I for example steer clear of "places of sale of women"? Well, I don't seek them out on a regular basis; but I have been known to look in at Maggie's Bar, Beijing's most notorious knocking shop, once or twice.
I have also in the past month or so recklessly exposed myself to the far more provoking and arousing environment of Treasure Island (Russian sleazepit complete with pole-dancing nymphettes) and an expat sports bar in which a quartet of near-naked American cheerleaders were doing their spangly rah-rah thing.
There's nothing closeted about your teetotalism either, I suppose: you've been very public about that for 15 years or more.
I prefer to think of myself as a recovering teetotaller.
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