What it takes to be a man

To this pivotal thought, I have some clichés which I brought back in my tupperware from a dinner with my buddies last week.

Twenty something years ago, King, Kir & I were inseparable. King used to drink ziska kakazozo and could hardly walk back home and Kir, the romeo, slept with five girls a week, dated three and was in love with all of them. As for me, I was more than happy swimming in that ocean filled with colorful characters and even if I did not emulate them, I admired them. At 19, we were carefree and that was all life needed to be about.

Two decades after, uhhh...ahem, ahem, there we were, seated around the table at King's house for dinner, each one of us quietly observing the other wondering what had happened. I was not really bothered by the baby talk. My friends had their wives wearing  their soft smiles and the conversation understandably revolved about teething, white nights and schooling. What I didn't expect though, was how 'manly' my behaviour would turn out to be later that evening on the balcony where I found myself, sipping a whisky and sharing a cigarette with my buddies [I don't drink whisky & I don't smoke].The conversation dangerously diverted onto a topic which straight guys only talk about in all confidentiality : mistresses and prostitutes. I suddenly felt like a double agent spying on enemy territory.

As much as cliché #1 - balcony, cigarette, cheap whisky, swearing, spitting - legitimately and easily made its way inside the box, cliché #2 completely took me by surprise. One was narrating a detailed report of his sex life with his mistresses and the other was confessing about the prostitutes he 'did' in his free time. Those stories were spiced up by horny 'sexploits' and the mix of enthusiasm and pride which accompanied the tales made it clear that my buddies were both in a state of mental jerking. I felt my turn would inevitably come and was left with only two options: lie or tell the truth. Une fois n'est pas coutume, I chose option number three: flatter their egos and divert the conversation elsewhere. This eventually brings me to cliché #3: Tell a man how impressed you are by his sexual prowess & success and let him top up the topic. No need to overtalk, no need to lecture, just make sure you don't get caught emptying your glass in the flower pot. If you succeed, you can be pretty sure a quiet and perfect evening lies ahead of you.

I love my buddies, they're not bad guys but sharing that moment with them was definitely an eye opener. I will try not to judge them. I know for sure, as much as they like me, how embarrassed they would be to learn about my lifestyle and I want to spare them that 'awful' truth. I could easily spit it out instead of leading them on but thing is, I like being around them every 10 years. It just adds more perspective to my own existence. They are marvelous dads, really nice guys. I simply can't explain when and how they turned out to be such a parody of themselves. I know how desperately condescending this sounds and I feel awful about it :( 

Someone else would have certainly left this dinner depressed, not me. There's that perfect family picture in the frame, suspended on a clean white wall but I definitely have reserves about the nail supporting it. I fear it's just a question of time before the picture falls. Just sayin'.

If I take it from their angle, to be a man, the following prerequisites are needed:

1) Be the head of the family

2) Sip, smoke, swear

3) Have at least two mistresses, one very young and one older than you.

4) Go to prostitutes

5) Boast about your sexual prowesses

6) Talk football, talk horse racing, talk politics

Any chance of fitting into at least one of those criterias? I have my glasses on and I still cannot figure where. As far as I am concerned, i'll stick to basic biology: to be a man, one first needs to be born male. 

Now, If I stick to another old cliché where integrity and, most importantly courage are what it takes to be a man, well, I am afraid I am not there yet either.

I am trying. 

Honestly, I am.