Yesterday I popped round to my neighbour, David, to borrow a drill. He answered the door in his usual home uniformtracksuit bottoms and a washed-out t-shirt.
Come in, he said, just finished dinner.
So, I stepped inside. The flat was tidy, the kitchen smelled gloriously of roast chicken. His laptop was perched on the table next to a glass of Merlot. You know, Davids fifty-one. Hes been divorced for twelve yearslives solo, works as an engineer, makes about £1,500 a week.
Ive known him five years now, ever since I moved in. Not once have I seen a woman at his place. Not even for a cuppa.
He handed me the drill and, ever the gent, poured us both a whisky. Pull up a chair, mate. Been a while.
So we sat. Had a tipple.
Curiosity got the better of me. So, David, why do you live alone? I asked. Never see you with anyone. Not looking?
He smirked. Not looking on purpose, he said. You know, Alan, twelve years single and Ive realisedIm much happier.
How come? I asked.
He topped up my glass and leaned back. Six solid reasonsit took me pain and single malt to figure them out.
Reason #1 The Divorce Lottery
He lifted his glass. I divorced Susan twelve years ago. We were married for eighteen years. Got a daughter, shes twenty-eight now, lives on her own.
He took a sip. We split because she had an affair. Caught her with a colleague. Filed for divorce.
So what happened? I asked.
Judge split the house in half, right down the middle, even though I paid most of the mortgage. We sold it, chopped the cash in two, and I bought this one-bed flat. All absolutely legal, of course.
He raised an eyebrow. Alan, I lost half of everything because she cheated. The law says thats fair. I grafted, I paid, she strayedand walked away with fifty percent.
I nodded in commiseration, as you do. He pressed on.
So why would I risk it all again? Suppose I meet someone, we move in, three years down the line, we get married, buy a car, a few bits. She decides to pack her bagsIm back at square one. Why gamble?
I kept quiet. Whisky helps.
Reason #2 Women Dont Back Your Dreams
You know, Alan, Ive got a dream, he said. I want to buy an old Triumph, restore it, ride round the countryside at weekends.
Splendid dream, I said.
Ive been saving for a year. Half a year more and Ill get that 70s model. Tinker with it myself.
He drank some water and continued. When I was married, I had dreams. Wanted to learn the guitar. Bought one, even took lessons. Susan just scoffed: Why bother? Youre forty, not Eric Clapton. So, I quit. Wanted to do a canal boat trip round Yorkshire. She said, Are you mad? Mortgage to pay and you want to play Boy Scouts? Never went.
He looked wistful. Women just dont get it. They think mens hobbies are daft. Now I live alone, I do what I want. Ill buy that bike and not hear a peep about it.
Reason #3 The Princess Complex
He carried on. A few years back, I gave online dating a go. Honest profileage, job, hobbies, my salary.
How was that? I asked.
Chatted to a few. One woman, Louise, forty-six, runs a beauty salon, makes about £500 a week. She messaged me: You seem interesting, but Im looking for someone earning at least £2,000 a week.
He chuckled. I asked, And how much do you make? She blocked me, Alan.
Youre kidding? I said.
Not a bit. Most women these days fancy themselves as royalty. They earn five hundred quid, live in rented flats, but expect a man to turn up in a new Jag, pocket stuffed with cash. And thats itfeminine energy is all they bring to the table.
He finished his whisky. I make £1,500 a week. Got a flat, car. Yet to many, Im a loser because Im not a millionaire. Should I really bother with people who dont appreciate me?
Reason #4 Domestic Bliss, Overrated
I probed, Dont you miss a womans touch? A bit of home-cooked food?
David burst out laughing. Look around, Alan. Is it clean? Spick and span. I give the place a quick blitz every Saturdayone hour, job done. Cooked that roast chicken myselfhalf an hour in the oven. Laundry? Press Start and the machine sorts the rest.
He gestured grandly. Honestly, I dont need a woman for housework. Half of them cant even cook these daystakeaways and ready meals is all. You do find the odd one who can, but most expect you to bankroll their lifestyle just for the pleasure of their casserole. Ill happily fend for myself.
Reason #5 The Artful Dodger
More whisky poured.
After my divorce, I dated two women. Short-lived affairs. Both lied.
How so?
He sighed. First, Helen. Told me she was divorced. Month in, found out she was marriedher husband didnt earn enough, so she wanted a bit on the side.
He swigged. Second, Rachel. Said she had no kids. Two months later, I discover shes got twojust forgot to mention them. Didnt want to scare me off, see?
Thats rough.
Exactly, Alan. I got tired of being lied to. Women think its fine to leave out big secrets to hook a man, then wonder why trust goes out the window.
Reason #6 Initiative? Prepare for Immediate Rejection
David leaned back, looking philosophical.
Last time I tried to chat someone up was a year ago. Bookshop, classics section. Nice woman, about forty-five.
And?
I said, Afternoon. You look like a fan of the classicsfancy a recommendation? She looked at me like I was Jack the Ripper, froze me out with a perfectly cold Ill manage, thanks, and stomped away.
He grinned wryly.
Alan, any sign of interest these days and youre a creeper. Say hellopotential stalker. Message onlineinstant block. Buy someone a coffeemust be a freeloader. Im done putting myself out there. If a woman wants to, she can make the first move. Im through with the humiliation.
Why I Started Thinking and What I Realised
David drained his whisky, looked me in the eye.
Alan, Im not saying all women are terrible. Far from itsome are lovely. But finding them? Needle in a haystack, my friend. And the cost of being wrong is steepmoney, stress, and years lost.
He got up, stretched.
Im fifty-one. Got a steady job. My own place, car, hobbies, mates. Im happy single. Why put all that on the line for a relationship that will probably end in heartache and empty pockets?
I trudged home, lay in bed, mulling it all over.
Im forty-nine, married twenty-three years. Things are fine with my wife. But if I were alone Would I do what David did?
Probably.
Sois David wise for living solo these past dozen years, wary of risk? Or just a coward afraid of connection?
Does divorce truly bankrupt a man, even after infidelity? Or is that melodramatic?
Is a bloke over fifty right to steer clear of relationships because the stakes are too high? Or is that selfish, maybe just fear of living?
Do women really dismiss mens dreams, or are we blokes just picking the wrong ones?
