I’m at the age where people my age could potentially date people my kid’s age and not get arrested. When I go on and off social media, I have to check in on all my ex-boyfriends—see if they’ve married or have become wildly successful. Research on my fallow fields. I dated this aspiring comedian when I was still in my thirties. I thought it was such a brave thing to do, to go up on stage with nothing but your words, and make a handful of people in a bar laugh. I went to his open mics until I didn’t want to go anymore.
He had this joke he always told, “I’m dating a cheerleader…(blah blah blah), he (something something).” I don’t remember it exactly, but the punchline was that the cheerleader was a man. He was telling a gay joke the same year that the first season of Stranger Things was released on Netflix.
I still brought him home with me. I liked the wave in his hair and that I matched with him on Tinder after recognizing him as one of the older skaters I had a crush on in high school. On our first date, he made me pork chops and then we watched Deadpool in the condo of a woman he was living with. I don’t know where she was or if they were romantically involved, but the next time I spent the night with him I was loud and drunk, and he got kicked out of the house.
He didn’t have a job for most of the time that we dated because he was really trying to take the comedy thing seriously. We were both the parents of teenagers. His kids’ mom bore the bulk of the responsibility of raising their children while he moved into his car in the Winco parking lot. I didn’t break up with him because of any of that. It was because he stood me up and didn’t call one night when he was out with his fellow comedians. The next day I let his calls go to voice mail, and so he disappeared into the ether.
When I check on him on Instagram, I see that he is dating a girl who is the same age as our daughters. I’m like ew, but I follow him because I’m curious about his character arc, and I’m lonely and can maybe have a dumb fling.
We start messaging and I find out that the relationship with the young girl is over because she just wanted to party all the time and was a little immature. I’m thinking duh. He talks about getting together or me coming to see him do the open mic at Paddy’s on Thursday nights, and then sends me paragraphs of complaints about PC comedy culture. I try to ignore his ire and ask him what he’s up to work wise. He says he isn’t working and that he’s turned his life around, has his own place and is collecting disability for his anxiety and still just working on his comedy career.
When I learn all of this, it’s like I’ve come out of a trance. What the fuck am I doing going back into this mess? I send him a message that I can’t date him. I tell him I don’t date men without jobs. I see him as a leech on the system. I don’t want to knock anyone’s mental health diagnoses, but it seems like if someone’s anxiety is debilitating enough to keep him from work, then he wouldn’t be able to go up on a stage and tell bad jokes every week. I think about our kids and his ex-wife and our daughters and the fact that he dated someone their age.
His reply was tinged with rage. He defended his right to live any lifestyle he chose, which would have been a fine reply if he hadn’t hurled “You’re a fucking waitress,” like it’s an insult.