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Thursday, February 16, 2012
Adult Virgins - The Window of Opportunity
Interestingly enough, these two fellows had a few things in common. This is a shocker.
Both men were sensitive, artistic types (also a shocker) who, while technically proficient, were not very creative. The example my colleague used was "if you asked him to draw a dollar bill, he was spot-on..." Exactly. But if asked to come up with a currency creation of their own, I am nearly certain that the end result would look amazingly like a dollar bill.
Both men also lived with their parents well beyond the socially-acceptable time limit for a mature, grown adult male. My friend still does, if I am not mistaken, at this point probably simply trying to wait them out for outright possession of the house and grounds to get something out of his 50-year investment.
So, I had a theory...
My thoughts are thus: There is a finite window of opportunity in which one can comfortably lose one's virginity. By "comfortably", I mean organically, given the nature of human curiosity and without the use of weaponry. The optimum time frame for this to occur in the natural flow of American culture is between the ages of 15-25. I discount, of course, the promiscuous pre-teens, just as I do not include religious do-gooders and teens who sign contracts of celibacy. I won't judge either group aloud or in print, but I must take them out of my calculations for a pure set of variables. I hope they understand. If not, perhaps they can focus some of their attention on being resentful of their exclusion instead of putting what I consider to be an unnatural amount of time in on grappling with their sexual promiscuity.
Those between the ages of 15 and 25 are most likely to fall into the act of sex and embrace it as a new, exciting frontier. The four years between the ages of 25 and 29 become tricky for several reasons. First of all, the comfort level for a twenty five year old man to approach the fairer sex in a seductive manner diminishes greatly as one passes into their late-twenties. Conversation grows more stilted and the topics tend to the mundane. Sex rarely crops up in these late-bloomers' casual chats and when it does, it is usually too graphic and comes off as a bit creepy. Men in this age group still have the courage and usually have a job that pays well enough to get tossed off in a massage parlor, or go all out and buy a hooker. This done and out of the way, these individuals still have a reasonable chance at moving forward with normal activity - their fear of and confidence with "the act" having been professionally addressed.
The years between 29 -50 provide the greatest challenge for the chaste. If they are lucky enough to go on a date (questionable), they will be paired with either a much more experienced veteran of the down and dirty, or an equally inexperienced delight who will be just as disinclined to make or respond to a first move as the lucky fellow who had the good fortune to land her for the date. Either date will likely intimidate our intrepid hero and a second, follow-up trip to the movies and soda shop will most likely be rebuffed. There is still a chance to go to the massage parlor or visit a pro, but the likelihood of this brave adventure will most likely be passed over for the opportunity to go sky-diving or learning how to snorkel.
Once the golden age of fifty has been attained (kudos), it has been found that men are more likely to be struck by lightening, in turn mauled, then eaten by a polar bear, or hit in the eye with monkey feces on two separate visits to the zoo than to lose one's virginity. Again, at this point the individual thanks his lucky stars for the invention of the internet, because he no longer has to go to Zorba's Adult Book Store to buy his pornography. Everything he needs and is comfortable with is at his nimble, if slightly-arthritic fingertips. He will have given up the idea of losing his virginity altogether and will spend most of his last years fussing with his gun collection and shouting back at the talking heads on C-SPAN. The notion of seeing a woman (non-inflatable) in his bed will have long since disappeared and been displaced by the notion of having his hip replaced so it doesn't hurt so much when he stoops to pick up his schnauzer's droppings.
And finally, the urge to have such thoughts and accomplish such lofty goals will eventually disappear altogether and his fascination with The Clapper will be the topic of conversation at the bagel shop, where our hero will spend hours upon hours with his widower buddies and equally-curmudgeonly old golf pals, right up until the day he stops showing up... Sad stuff, huh? Bet you didn't think I had such pathos in me.
The moral of course is this: Get after it - don't waste your time overthinking the matter. Get it done and move on - as the great man once said (and I paraphrase) - there are planes to catch and bills to pay and he learned to walk while I was away... I don't know exactly how that fits in, but read into it and come to your own conclusions - I can't be expected to do everything for you - after all, I'm busy getting busy...