And now he's marrying a 26-year-old who calls herself Star and who, other than the X she carved into her forehead to match the swastika carved on his, is a pretty young woman who could probably get a date with someone who's not the age of her great-great grandfather. If she wanted to.
Single people all over the world shared the same thought when they heard the news of this announcement: What the fucking fuck? Charles fucking Manson can get a date in prison, and I can't! What the fuck is wrong with this world? Would I fare better in prison? Do I have to start a cult to get a date in this helter skelter world?
Good fucking question, and one I asked myself too. What does Charles Manson have that I don't? I mean besides that swastika scar front and center in his Botox area.
Let me be clear about one thing: This is not about getting laid. That's not what I mean when I talk about dating. I can get laid any time I want to -- although mostly by married or partnered people. I choose not to .... for reasons of self-preservation. It's not about getting laid for him either, because Charles Manson can't get laid. Or at least not by his youthful fiance. It's against the rules. He gets one hug at the beginning of a visit and one after. Like a first date ... or like I would imagine a first date might go. It's been a while.
I'm also not saying I want to date Charles Manson. Obviously I'm too old for him. I'm used to that though. I'm too old for most men who don't live in a nursing home, and the best I can do is try not to be bitter about it.
I certainly don't want to get married. Not to Crazy Charlie or anybody else. That's the last thing I need. I'm not looking for a commitment when mere honesty is so rare.
It's just that in my secret heart -- and please don't tell anybody I said this -- I would like to date, but the obstacles seem insurmountable. My friends say I'm choosy, and they don't blame me, especially given my past experiences. It's true. I'm not going to get involved with someone who's obviously not right for me just so I can go on a date -- not even so I can write about it here. People's feelings are at stake -- mine being the most important to me.
Well intentioned friends and strangers assure me, with all of the naivete at their disposal, that there's somebody for everybody. And thus, by the rules of "glass half full" logic, somebody is out there for me, and it's only a matter of time before he finds me or I find him. My problem, of course, is that I'm not sending enough positive energy out into the world to attract him to me. I'm letting my past experiences interfere with my use of attraction magic. If I were doing my part by ignoring all the evidence and believing hard enough in this mythical man, I too would be enjoying a healthy, happy relationship like Star and Charlie do.
I'm rambling tonight. I ramble when I talk or write about dating, because I don't want to sound bitter or upset any of you with my pessimism. My friends love to hope for me. Hope that my Charlie is out there and that he will someday find me and make me into a couple again. Because it would be so nice for everybody if I were half of a couple again. But that's another post.
Congratulations, Charles Manson, you sexy old beast you. You've proven without a doubt that the dating world is an insane asylum, and I'm better off buying a dog and creating an imaginary boyfriend who is only attached to me. But if you ever write a dating book, I'll be first in line to buy it, because obviously you've got this shit figured out, old man. If only I had your charisma.
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