Thoroughly disgusted with the quality of the men I'd been dating (if it could even be said to have progressed to such an elevated level), in early October I entered my first voluntary period of celibacy since "losing my virginity" 24 years (can it be?!) ago. It was relatively easy to do knowing R. would most likely talk me out of that vow after arriving in India. And so he did, without too much effort, as we set out for a tour with his band toward Bengal. But, grrrls, I was quite peeved to discover, upon our return to Delhi, that he is virtually joined at the hip with the captivating young A. And when I say young, I mean 20. Mental note to explore: what makes men flip out so badly in their mid-40s, anyway?!?
They might as well be living together, and I was to stay at R.'s flat for 2 weeks plus the odd day here or there between trips within India. UGGGHHH, I have to say that I cannot bear couple friends. Doing things with the partners of my friends is fine on occasion, particularly if we hit it off. But something about this expectation that a long-standing friendship (over 20 years, in this case, meaning I've been friends with him since she was, like, 6 months old) between two people should naturally expand to include a third really sets my teeth on edge. And that leaves aside completely the awkwardness of the sexual situation, R. all of a sudden having erected some sort of forcefield (isn't body language so telling, really?) -- his unspoken message was quite clear.
In the two weeks I was in Delhi, R. went out with me alone, without the girlfriend, exactly once -- a sedate afternoon outing to Humayun's tomb. Fortunately I was able to move over to his dad's flat and stay there (it's been nicely renovated and has Internet and a woman who comes to cook delicious North Indian veg food). R.'s dad is one of those rarities, a truly sweet, gentle soul. And he has taken me out twice himself, not to mention interesting discussions over glasses of booze, staving off the cold of these Delhi winter nights.
So I have reached the point, my dears, in which I finally feel that I'm happier with my own company than putting up with THESE MEN.