Vol. 1, Post #3 Ménage À Trois – Two Wise Men & One Badass Woman
Dating is not for the weak. A somewhat philosophical read on sex tips for girls* (*girls who are holding on to their mid-50s by a thread). A dating odyssey for Young Olds, AKA people with readers.
Many of you enlightened readers know The Four Agreements, written by Don Miguel Ruiz. Published in 1997, it outlines a “code of conduct” based on Toltec teachings (the word comes from the indigenous people that flourished in Mexico before the Aztecs) that are as simple as they are succinct, aimed at improving your life. Summarily, they are:
1. Be impeccable with your word.
2. Do not take anything personally.
3. Do not make assumptions.
4. Always do your best.
Of Number Three, Ruiz writes, “With just this one agreement, you can completely transform your life.” I heartily agree that not making assumptions is perhaps one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself (in dating or in any behavior out in the wilds of Humankind, but since this Substack is focused on dating as one of its cornerstones, let’s linger here). In dating, we all make assumptions, mostly for the worse. “Why aren’t they calling me back? What did I say that turned them off? They said they were interested in making another date so where did they go? I must have done something stupid or uncool…” and the list goes on.
While Number Three resonates deeply, I think that for most people, Number Two is the bitch of the bunch, particularly in dating (and especially “ouchy” in dating at this age), as we like to pretend that we’ve outgrown faulty, unevolved thinking that whispers in our ear, “it’s allllllll about you” – instead, we tell ourselves, “I’m older, I’m smarter, this isn’t high school, I know better.” The truth is, when you’re dating as a Young Old (and probably at nearly any age), you are just as vulnerable to taking things personally as you were as a fresh and dewy 14-year-old. Taylor Swift apparently wrote her song “The Best Day” after she and her mom stumbled onto a pack of her young friends at the mall one day – a day when all of her besties told her they were “busy” – they sure were; they were busy hanging out with everyone but Taylor. Taylor’s mom to the rescue; she took her brokenhearted teen daughter to ANOTHER mall in the area, a nicer mall, a better mall, and they had a wonderful connective afternoon together. Taylor, so the story goes, wrote “The Best Day” as a love letter to her mom and a fuck you to the mean girls who left her out.
Now…we’ll never know why those brats left young Taylor out of their plans that day at the mall and I suppose we can assume that mean girls gonna mean, but my point is this: she felt that rejection deeply; it stung; and her mom did what all good parents do – she shifted focus and gave her daughter the gift of distraction. How many of us do the same for our own buddies who are awaiting a call or a text from a potential lover, who placate a single friend who THINKS they had a great first or fifth date but is chomping at the bit for confirmation in the form of some sort of smoke signal that indicates “I’d love to see you again”? Because this is a double-dong dildo Number Two AND Number Three mindfuck in action!
While we wait – we start to imagine all the reasons we’re not hearing from the person who is our heart’s desire, and I’m just as guilty of this as you, Dear Reader. We get self-absorbedly personal, and we make assumptions. Gal Pal with whom I yucked around in my previous post was out on a nature walk with me this fall and I was prattling on and on about why an already-established-manfriend-of-mine must have gone silent, all of which was based around what I supposed were my own shortcomings – I must have seemed too aggressive in wanting to talk out a minor issue; we must ultimately want different things; I was annoyed when he was late for date and didn’t let that go fast enough. Blah, blah, BLAH. I tumbled right into the emotional weeds on this, and it wasn’t until I remembered Ruiz The Wise, and pulled myself out of my funk (with Gal Pal’s help in the form of a good ear, a few silent stares, and a well-delivered “Oh, Honey…”) Do you know why my manfriend had been silent? Because he was not only stuck in his kitchen, steaming mad at a food vendor about a botched delivery (Abbe & Her Chefs is a whole other Substack) AND he had strep throat. But I made it both a worst-case scenario and even deeper, a worst case scenario starring ME. And how I must have fucked up the whole thing. As The Human League sings, “I’m only human…”
In keeping your sanity around dating, Ruiz, with his Four Agreements, is not the only Wise Man in the mix here. Equally wise and probably not even recognized by name is Miles Dalby, AKA, Joel’s best friend in the 1983 flick “Risky Business.”
Miles (played by Curtis Armstrong, the actor also known for his turns in “Better Off Dead” and “Revenge Of The Nerds” – hello, he was Booger!) delivers one of the most repeated mini-monologues from the film – a film that that defined young Tom Cruise before Scientology ate him alive, as well as a film that probably gave many of you a first glimpse of a cutie pie in tighty-whities (don’t let me forget – I have at least 1,000 words to share with you about men and their underpants at some point in the near future). While the film is over FORTY years old now, the wisdom that Miles delivers to Cruise’s Joel is still golden, and spot on, particularly these two lines:
“Every now and then, say ‘What the fuck.’ ‘What the fuck’ gives you freedom.”
There it is. Succinct. Direct. Let’s all say it out loud, shall we?
Because in dating, both as a kid and as a Young Old, “what the fuck” does give you the incredible of gift of doing, saying, exploring WHATEVER you want (within reason – no one gets to superimpose their “what the fuck” on someone else without permission) IF you are willing to accept the consequences. And what’s the worst thing that could happen? It’s this: they won’t return your ardor. I mean, that’s really the long and short of it. If your potential Beloved is a total douche or a complete bitch, they could, in theory, take your lovely invitation to have tea or jump into bed and broadcast it to the world as a way to show off how desirable they are (or, conversely, how desperate you are), but I’d argue that all that would do is solidify just how creepy they are, and how you dodged the proverbial bullet. “What the fuck” allows you to take your shot, tell it like it is, break out of your comfort zone, and, if it works, you might get to enjoy a beverage or you might get laid. I’m all about “what the fuck.”
You know who else is ALL about “what the fuck,” although she characterizes it differently? My dear friend Michelle – and, just so you know, I’m NOT using an alias, because I asked Michelle for permission to out her here, as a way to show admiration for her no-nonsense ‘tude.
Michelle has been single for about five years and has a steady partner for the last two. Like many Young Olds, she was married for a very, very long time and had zero experience in modern dating. She made the same mistakes that we all make in those early “back at it” days: spending too much time texting ahead of a date and then being disappointed when the actual date happened and there was no chemistry, or, even worse, when a potential date blows you off after you’ve been happily texting up a storm…been there, done that. Michelle went out with guys who found her appealing when she sadly did not return the interest, and vice versa. She chatted with guys on the apps who turned out to be utterly full of shit — we laugh about the guy we dubbed “Baker Boy” who was far from fabulous. A baker from Saratoga Springs, he engaged with SO MANY women that all knew each other in the greater Hudson Valley, NY area (with the same come-ons and the same lame ghosting after booking a date) that we dubbed ourselves “The Baker’s Dozen” — and while some women would’ve gotten indignant, Michelle just shrugged it off. Michelle is a bad ass. Among her latest achievements as a Young Old? Competitive dead lifting. She won a goddamn CONTEST last fall, lifting 203 lbs. (by the way, I asked Michelle to read this prior to posting and she told me with pride that she’s now lifting 205 lbs.) So, what does Michelle contribute to this mix of wisdom from a spiritual teacher with a bestselling self-help manual and a fictional teenage prophet that probably smelled like Drakkar Noir and Clearasil?
“Who cares!”
Yup, that’s it. That’s Michelle’s stock answer for almost anything* when the going gets sticky (*needless to say, “who cares!” doesn’t apply to life’s true challenges, etc.) But “who cares!” is the perfect balm for any number of moments when you feel like screaming or shaking a fist the sky, particularly when it comes to modern romance. Get blown off for a date that you were excited about? Who cares! They are giving you valuable information about who they really are before you are invested. Meet up with someone promising only to discover that they smoke two packs a day, that they have five children still living at home all under the age of 10, that their Ex- is their best friend and they like to spend every Sunday together “like the old days” and you won’t be invited to join in the “fun”? Who cares! Next! Because, as Michelle has learned, “who cares!” is not set up to minimize your pain nor ignore what might be a shitshow of circumstances. It’s there to remind you that you’re alive and breathing and if you sweep aside any nonsense before it swallows you whole, you’ll have room for a whole new set of adventures. And what is life – even life as a Young Old – without a healthy sense of adventure?
Sometimes in dating and in life, you just have to say, “who cares!” toss aside that self-help book and go on a joy ride in a stolen Porsche* around the posh suburbs of Chicago.
*FUN FACT: The Porsche 928 that was used in “Risky Business” was actually six different cars, and in September 2021, the last known "Risky Business" 928 sold at Barrett-Jackson's Houston auction house in Houston for a staggering $1.98 million, a world-shattering record price for any Porsche, from any year, in any condition. Given our age, feel free to whip this out and impress any Young Old with your trivia prowess.
One final thought: Michelle and I were talking about what we’d chisel in stone if we were writing The Four Agreements Of Dating, and we both agreed that Number Four is a keeper, just as it stands. So…sally forth, Dear Readers, and remember, always do your best.
I really needed this "who cares!" reminder today !
I recently had the experience of learning that someone I think fondly of (when I think of her at all) believes I "hate" her, and specifically excluded her from something. She could see "no other explanation."
Especially online, where our relationships are real, but also weird and different. It is VERY easy to assume things that are absolutely not true.
At the risk of touching a third rail, it happened a LOT in the Woolferverse.