Page 2 of Wrong Number, Right Silver Fox
"Tell me more."
Chapter 2
Jack
"You look like crap, Jack. You need to start dating again."
I eye my best friend, Paul, and wonder why he's always got to be into my personal business. Sure, we're friends, but he's a hound dog, and I've been a tad celibate the past two years. Why? I've been burned, and besides, my position at the university means I have to be very careful who I date.
"It's complicated."
"No, it's not. You pick one of the hundreds of girls that surround you at the university and start dating them."
"I can't date a student, you know that."
"What about the other teachers? There's got to be a hot one amongst them."
"I don't date women because they're hot." I scoff.
"Then you're doing it wrong."
"Paul, can we talk about something else?"
I don't mind begging a little, but Paul is like a dog with a bone. He just won't let it go.
"You're forty-five, Jack. You're not getting any younger."
"Now I'm old?"
"Don't you want a family of your own? Kids?"
So he's fighting dirty tonight.
"Like I said, it's complicated."
"I think you're making it complicated. Did Sharon do that much damage that you don't want to find love again?"
"Bringing up my ex is not cool, man."
"It is when you have let her ruin your love life,” Paul says.
"This has nothing to do with her."
"Just do me a favor. Start a conversation with someone. Go on a dating app. Do something. You are a good man and my best friend. I want you to be happy."
Hitting me in thefeelslike this feels like a low blow, but I don't say anything. There's nothing for me to say. I have used the dating apps sporadically and tried to approach women in settings far away from campus, but it just hasn't panned out.
Perhaps I need to add some adventure to my life. Being the head of the English department at the university is not very sexy, and my dates glaze over when I start talking about Shakespeare's life and body of work.
A terrible thought comes into my mind. Am I boring? If that's true, then I'm the reason no woman will touch me with a ten-foot pole. I try to think back to when I was with Sharon. We had a very active sex life, but that doesn't hold together a relationship.
Paul and I watch the game on TV, and we stick to safe topics from that point on. After about three beers, I stop myself because I have to grade some papers after my friend leaves. Yup, that's me. Grading papers on a Friday night.
Once the game is over, I walk him to the door. I get tense because I'm pretty sure he's going to bring up the same topic again and I don't have anything else to say to him about it.
"I see it on your face that you don't want to talk about it anymore,” he says. Just promise me you'll think about it, okay?"
"Okay. Thanks for coming by, Paul."
