An Embarrassment of Riches

Middle age is certainly being kind to me and one of my best friends. Both of us, long time singletons and recently drifting manless, were feeling old, unwanted, and unattractive just a few short months ago. And now, amazingly enough, we have both come through some dark and lonely times to end up in bright sunshine. It's really amazing how life continues to surprise and delight me even now.

Beautiful Karla, my friend since first grade, got engaged for Christmas. I'm just thrilled for her. When her mother died last January, I really got worried about her. She and her mom had been extremely close. And Karla had just been through a very traumatic break up, with somewhat sordid overtones, with the man she thought was the man of her dreams. He was a guy she'd worshipped from afar since high school and who she finally got to notice her a couple of years back. I was not a fan of his. He knew she was hopelessly smitten and treated her accordingly. Her mom's death exacerbated her depression and feelings of worthlessness. For months, I tried to convince her to not give up on herself; though, what help I was when I was going through the same stuff, I do not know. By late spring, she'd made a few, rather disastrous, forays into dating and was frustrated and disgusted by what she was finding. Finally, in desperation, she signed up on Match.com. I was very sceptical of an online matchmaking service, but decided to keep my mouth shut for the time being and pray she would not get hurt, let alone kidnapped and murdered. And after a few lunch dates with the expected losers and liars she got matched with, it seemed she was as discouraged by this tactic as by any other for meeting men. She decided she'd try one last time and that was when fate seemed to step in.

His name was Tom (which did not immediately endear him to me, as you might have guessed). He's 50 and divorced, with a son aged 18. He owns his own landscaping business. And he's quite the looker. Doesn't look 50 at all and in great physical shape. I was astounded that this was the caliber of man you could find online. And I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. You know, that he'd be psycho in some way or a sexual pervert (in a bad way, not the good kind) or turn out to have abused his ex or child or both. And it turns out I was wrong. He's funny, smart, and relaxed. He's sweet and considerate. He loves her dogs and she loves his son. He adores her and she adores him back. They both glow with happiness when they're together. And, now, they're getting married. My last and only friend who has stayed single with me all this time, through thick and thin, is getting hitched. It's what she has waited for and I'm just ecstatic for her.

And I, too, am in a state of happy contentment. Not because I'm getting married, of course. But because I'm at a very good place in my life at the moment. Careerwise, I've never been more productive and energetic. All my sisters, brothers-in-law, and nieces are doing well and are happy. And my romantic life is exactly where I want it to be.

I've narrowed down the crazy list of men I've been seeing to the three best. And all three, though quite different, fall into the category of man that I most want and need: a man whose career (and, perhaps, domicile in another state) keeps him too busy to be breathing down my neck on a constant basis, but who appreciates the fact that we make the best of our time and that I am the kind of woman who doesn't need or want a man 24/7.

Michael, my 44-year-0ld pilot, is the one I might consider a real relationship with someday. He's earnest, intelligent, funny, adventurous, and certainly one of the best looking men I've ever met. If it wasn't for his career and the still-touchy situation with his soon-to-be-ex-wife and kids, I think he'd be pushing me for more. He has such a romantic outlook on life, unlike cynical old me. It's frustrating but very sweet that we still have only had that one night of absolutely mind-blowing sex because he wants so for the marriage to be behind him before we move to that stage. And I simply can't make myself force it because he's so sincere about it all. He tells me the papers should finally be ready in a few weeks (too many things are being negotiated to finalize quite yet) and I certainly hope so. We go out on dates, come back to my place, and make out like kids. I end up breathless, intensely aroused, and sexually frustrated. Thank heaven his job keeps him out of town a lot, so I can get rid of the frustration with other options. And, best of all, he doesn't begrudge me those options.

The first of those options is Ron, 51, who lives in the Tampa area and is a vice president of finance for a college of osteopathic medicine. I first met him years ago when he was still here in the 'Burgh and was a VP for the Gateway Clipper Fleet. We reconnected when he got into post-secondary education and, as a PSU grad, found my picture on our campus website. He emailed me, we began talking, and, the next time he was in town, we went out for drinks. He flies into town every month or two and we make it a point to get together. He's my party boy. He's a fun guy. We go to nightclubs to see local bands. Or we hang at my neighborhood bar. Or we get crazy at a Steeler or Pens game. He'll get high with me. He's very distinguished looking, which belies his wild streak. I finally slept with him over the holidays and he's as wild and adventurous as I am in bed. We are very compatible in that way. And, I'm pretty sure, he thinks so too. This weekend is the third in a row that he's flown into town so we can go out on Saturday night. And if that hadn't convinced me that he likes our romps as much as I do, then he sure did when he told me last night on the phone that, on the scale of 1 to 10, I'm the first 10 he's come across. Though I don't think I could have a serious or permanent relationship with him because of distance, I'm glad I have a guy like this in my life. A man who is not intimidated by me, especially sexually, and who likes to experiment as much as I do is a very nice thing to have.

And last is Lee. He's 38 and a construction supervisor, currently working on a project in Chicago. We are each other's sex toys. It's sex, sex, and more sex between us. Nothing more than an animal attraction. We don't hang out in the bar together on the Friday nights he's in town. We just leave together. It's total down and dirty. I sit at the bar and sip beers with my friends. He plays the poker machine. We make eye contact. And then we go home for marathon sessions, from one end of my apartment to the other. If I had found Lee earlier, I would never have had to purchase my Rabbit. Of course, since he discovered I had my Rabbit, I no longer wish I had my $200 back. Because he has shown me some brand new tricks with the Rabbit up his sleeve, so to speak. All the younger women at the bar hate me now because of him. He's the Brad Pitt of the Corner Grill; all the women want him. And every Friday he's there, he leaves with me. Drives them crazy. And makes me laugh.

They are all terrific men and I'm very lucky to have them. 2007 is starting off with me healthy, happy, and content with my personal life. And to think that I was so terrified of middle age. It turns out that, for me and for my friend Karla, middle age comes with an embarassment of riches. And for that, I am grateful.