Unbaby Him

Caught up with Ronin, the legend of the bachelors. With his charming wit, power career in medicine and motorcycle as his choice of transport, he’s the most eligible and most emotionally unavailable man on this isle. Since we last spoke in any depth several years ago, he had notably mellowed out, but his resistance to settling down had not changed.

That said, he was no longer on five different dating apps filling up his free evenings with the newest batch of beauties he would bed once.

“I’m over the conquesting women thing,” he explained.

“What happened?!” I mean, it couldn’t be. This was Ronin, whose name google associated with “dating” after “MD.” The man who had perfected the one-two step of charm/sleep and its post-coital counterpart, respond/delete. (Once you slept with someone, you were forever obligated to respond to their communication, explained the man also famous for his zero email inbox.) I’ve always used Ronin as an example of why online dating (evil!) perpetuated damaging behavior for those with emotional issues by enabling them with an endless supply of new dates.

And now, he’s laying low for a few years. Taking cover from the storm. Counting down the days until he can once again, reclaim his indisputable status as Don Juan. Despite his pathologies, Ronin surprisingly has a few redeeming traits, and as it pertains to dating, he dates people his own age–and this, it turns out, is the eye of the hurricane. Women his age are sprinting to the finish line with their last two good eggs, and he wants no part of artificial “accidents.”

“I’m a 6’2″ Jewish doctor in Manhattan,” he noted dryly, taking a swig of whiskey. “Right now, I’m only sleeping with women who are menopausal or have IUDs.”

Oy vey.

So this is where the last of the straight men have disappeared to. There’s a reason I have trouble meeting straight single men my own age. Figuring out if I want kids or not is hard enough. Now I know sperm donors will emerge only after it’s official I can’t.

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