The Bachelor, Part One

To know him isn't everything

Several of us may be ashamed to acknowledge such a creature, even if he is your brother, uncle, neighbor, or boyfriend.  Heck, I’ll even jump out on a limb and throw in a couple of husbands and fathers.  For this post, and to keep it clean…which is more than a few deserve…we will call this breed of man the bachelor. No one is perfect, but the bachelor is a man so far from perfect a scale has not been invented yet that can measure his shortcomings.

This form of bachelor, the bachelor, is not to be confused with the quintessential bachelor.  What is the quintessential bachelor, you ask?  According to the NWTW Encyclopedia (me), the quintessential bachelor is the man, which through stupidity or tenacity (depending on your point of few) has managed to elude the ever-tightening noose of a permanent/long term commitment or marriage.

What separates the quintessential bachelor from the bachelor?  I have a list.  Do you have a month or three to read it?  If not, I’ll throw out a few quickies here.  I'll skim the surface with greediness, laziness, uncaring, unfeeling, cunning, lying, selfishness, all wrapped up in a big ball of disregard.  While the quintessential bachelor will touch upon these traits, certain characteristics more than others, the bachelor happily immerses himself in these off-putting characteristics.  The amusing and yet confusing factor about the bachelor is that despite all of his negative qualities, he still manages to be charming, loved by many, and in a lot of cases, prosperous.

Am I coming across as a bitter sexist?  Probably.  Am I?  No.  In fact, you’ll more than likely wind up shaking your head or laughing out loud at some of my friend's and my sightings or interactions with some of the bachelors.  And don’t worry; there will be a post…actually closer to a book…to describe the bachelorette.  If you know one of those, you might want to invest in good health coverage, life insurance, and an ironclad will.

So let’s start with a person, near and dear to my heart.  A very close relative we will call Ducky in this post.  I recently moved half way across the country.  Ducky only lives several hours from my new home.  I stopped there for a week to hang out and catch up on family news.  I am embarrassed to admit, the names have been changed, but this is a true story.

My first night at Ducky’s house

Ducky:  “I hope you have a towel in your bags.”

Me:  “I do.  Why?”

Ducky:  “'Cause I only have two and one of them is wrapped around the ironing board.”  

Me:  It takes me a while to digest this bit of information.  “Wait, didn't I just meet your girlfriend?  Becky or something like that?  What does she use when she stays overnight?”

Ducky:  “We either share the one towel or she sits out on the deck and air dries.”  

Me:  I could feel a headache rolling in at the absurdity of it all.  Ick factor not included...yet.  “Why doesn’t she bring towels with her or why don’t you buy more towels?”  An easy solution, right?

Ducky:  “What for?  One is good enough for me.  Plus, Becca is not allowed to bring anything over except the clothes she has on and a good bottle of wine or vodka.  Keeps her from getting ideas about us.”  Incredible!

Me:  “And she’s okay with this arrangement?”

Ducky:  “She just made us dinner, tonight.  What do you think?”  I think I’ll be eating take-out for the duration of my visit.  With a boyfriend like Ducky, I can see a whole lot of foreign objects making their way into his food.

Me:  Okay…so when your one towel is dirty, then what do you do?”  What can I say?  I’m a glutton for punishment.

Ducky:  “I take the towel off the ironing board and use it until the laundry is done.”  

Me:  Dare I ask?  “And the ironing board?”

Ducky:  “I use a sheet on the ironing board.”

Me:  “Why can’t you leave the sheet on the board and use two towels?”

Ducky:  “I only have one set of sheets.”  Goodness gravy!  I can’t believe we belong to the same family, much less the same species.  

A couple days later, still at Ducky's house

I stroll into the kitchen while Ducky is feeding his pet cat, Patches.  He is filling a bowl with dry cat food when few pieces spill out onto the table.  Instead of putting the stray pieces of cat food back into the bowl, Ducky tosses them into his mouth.

Me:  “Dude!  Did you just eat cat food?”

Ducky:  “Yep.  You might want to start eating some too.  The days are drawing near when cat food will be all you can afford.

Me:  I have a cat too, remember.  Their food isn’t exactly cheap.

Ducky:  “I can see I need to school you on the Ducky University of Logic.”  He lifts the bowl of cat food and waves it under my nose.  My throat closes up as the fishy-meaty smell attacks my nostrils.  I push the bowl away.  “This one bowl has all the vitamins and nutrients Patches needs to be a healthy and thriving animal.  She only requires a cup’s worth three times a day.”

Me:  “Yes, Patches…a cat.  Not a human.”

Ducky:  “Please!  Do you think everyone you meet in the pet aisle at the supermarket is buying dog and cat chow for a pet?  You’d be surprised how many tuna casseroles start with a can of Friskies or beef stew with a can of Gravy Train.”  

Me:  Now I’m truly glad I decided to eat anywhere but at Ducky’s house.  “Uhm…Ducky, do you ever do that?  You make a very good salary.  It’s sad, but I can understand someone who resorts to eating pet food because they don’t have money…”

Ducky:  “Here's lesson number one:  I travel all over the world.  I have a beautiful home, nice car, and a healthy bank account.  Know how?  'Cause I’m smart.  I leave that six dollar package of beef in the meat section of the grocery store and pick up a ninety cents can of beef in the pet aisle.  Never ignore a good bargain.”

Hmm, that’s enough of Ducky right now.  We have just grazed a few issues that make Ducky one of the bachelors.  We'll get back to him later.

My stomach is starting to roil as I speculate on what exactly I ate the first couple of nights at Ducky’s house.  Needless to say, I left quick and in a hurry.  Ducky occasionally calls to see when I will visit again now that I live relatively close.  I tell him soon.  The honest answer is never.  He has to come visit me.  I have a plethora of towels, sheets and food fit for human consumption.

Do you know a man who exemplifies the bachelor?  Do tell!  I’m sure we’d all love to read about him.

Stay tuned for part two of The Bachelor.