epsiode 26

Where have all the straight men gone?

I have been a bit remiss with the column lately but now, I am officially going to be back to my usual updates. Promise. It just takes me a while to get my head around a new year. You know, it's great on the one hand because you greet it with optimism, but then on the other it panics you into thinking that yet another year has passed… Mixed feelings, anyway.
So, this year, which I know hasn't been around for long, my evenings out, my meeting men have had one thing in common; so far in 2008 I haven't really met a straight man.
It started on New Year's Eve, which I have to confess to being one of the most fun in years. I have always had a love/hate relationship with New Year, you know, expectation so high, reality so low. But anyway, this year was different. We were surrounded by men. Literally, surrounded. Gorgeous, well-dressed funny, intelligent and charming men. Alas, not one of them was straight. OK, maybe that's an exaggeration, there were a few couples. Oh and my friend found someone cute, and said to him, 'you're the only single straight guy here, do not leave my side.' Well that's one way to scare a guy into not moving.
But, the thing was that I was having too much fun to even care.
Of course, we knew what to expect with the venue we chose. It's not as if we were on the prowl and then moaning because no one fancied us (although they did compliment our shoes). Anyway, I might have known, but when I went to have a cigarette I met a very confused, very short straight man. His friend had brought him here, abandoned him and he didn't really know what was going on. He said he was a scaffolder, as if that explained everything (it didn't), and then he kept hugging me which was a tad unnerving as we had only just met. I offered to help him find his friend, as I was slightly worried he might cry, but just then one of my friends came to tell me that it was time to dance. I saw him later, clinging to another woman like a limpet. I swear he really was crying this time.
Anyway, I went to dance and that was that. The evening was so fabulous, one of the best I've had in ages. We drank, laughed, and danced like maniacs before rolling home at seven in the morning. We well and truly saw in the New Year properly and in style.
The following weekend, we found ourselves back at the same place to celebrate a friend's birthday. Again, the company was fantastically enjoyable. These guys, really knew how to treat women well, and they didn't even fancy us. Before I am accused of becoming a proper 'fag hag', I just have to say that, well so what if I am? And also, it's not that because I dated a man I thought was gay and who wasn't, although he was more about his hair than conversation to be honest. It's just that there is something endearing about spending time with guys who stimulate you but don't make you feel insecure, or worried, or wondering what happens next. Who compliment you with no hidden agenda and make you laugh without trying to hard. And it's not just a safety net; believe me, if I wasn't having a good time I'd be telling you that.
Anyway, over dinner we all talked about our ideal men, (mine is still Declan Donnelly although I've now added Jonathan Rhys Meyers as I'm more than slightly addicted to the Tudors), and it got me to thinking. In all the dates I've had, the one thing missing most of the time was great chemistry. And that, whether the guy is short, tall, rich or not so rich is what's been missing for me since my last relationship. Therefore, it was time for a proper New Year's resolution.
This year I am going to sit back and wait for the boys to come to me and not just date anyone for the sake of this column or going on dates. I am finally ready for my New Year resolutions you see, (I've always been a bit slow off the mark).
And as well as drinking less, going to yoga more and attempting to embrace the smoking ban, I am going to give up organised dating (no more speed, internet, silly singles parties for me), I'm going to meet guys the old fashioned way or not at all. I am going to believe that someone in this universe has my best interests at heart and will ensure they look after them. I shall finally learn to trust.

There was a newspaper article recently about a survey conducted by an internet dating site concerning what women look for in a man. The top twenty answers included the following: is at least 5ft 10, good looking, 12 ½ stone (why the half?), earns more than 30k, has blue eyes and short dark brown hair, never been married, no children, 3 previous serious relationships, clean shaven, drives a silver Mercedes (why silver?), enjoys the cinema and eating out, has had fewer than 6 sexual partners, owns a home worth at least 300k, doesn't smoke, dislikes football and likes pets.
I didn't see the survey or how it was conducted but I think it seems slightly ridiculous because if the choice is between someone who likes pets or who hates pets, only a nutter would choose the latter. And when asked for your ideal man you're hardly likely to say someone who earns 10k, lives with their mum, is short, drives a yellow Nissan Micra, loves football, is a bit dirty and hairy and has been with over one hundred women.
Then the media turns around and says that no wonder so many women are single if that is what they aspire to. Honestly, we can't win.
I think these surveys are a waste of time, because they are asking for ideals, and of course that's what they'll get. If you did the same survey with men, I'm sure that a 6ft, blonde, beer loving, geisha type with a few million stashed in the bank and a love of football would come out higher than say, an intelligent, slightly geeky woman who likes foreign films and rides a bicycle.

So for my wish list. Someone who is just as much fun as my gay friends, dresses as well, is as intelligent, amusing and charming, but is straight. Really, that is all I want. Well, and maybe a nice car. But as long as it's not snot green I don't mind about the colour… I wonder what my chances are?
In the meantime where have all the straight guys gone? To be honest I'm having too much fun to care.