Thursday, 14 June 2012

Ramblings of a 30-something man... How a phone can make you feel your age!

Ramblings of a 30-something man... How a phone can make you feel your age!
In six months I turn 35. But I'm comfortable with it. I like to think I'm one of those young 30-somethings. I keep myself active, still find time to hang out with the lads, and everyone is always telling me I could easily pass for 28 or 29. I guess all that moisturising has paid off (just don't tell my dad about that - he wouldn't understand). So reaching my mid-30s is not a problem for me. 

That is until I got myself a new phone. Not having quite mastered how to transfer all my numbers across to a new phone at the click of a button, I set about the task of manually inputting in all my numbers.

"Who is Andy Pitman?" my girlfriend asks, scanning through my contacts book as I start the laborious task of switching numbers.

"Oh Andy, he is a top guy! He can sink a pint quicker than any man I've ever met," I boldly gush to her. "We called him Andy Pintman!"

"How come I have never met him?" she asks. A fair question which I don't really have the answer to until it dawns on me that I haven't seen or spoken to Andy for total duration of our relationship - that's six years!

Oh well, friends come and go. That's how the world works. One less number I need to clog up my phone book, and there is always Facebook if I ever fancy seeing the amazing four-second pint chug again. On to the next name.

"Brian Temple," she says, looking at me for my response.

"That's Bri-boy, the big BT!" I say it like that is meant to mean anything to her. "He used to blag us into all the best clubs and could sweet talk any group of girls into having a drink with us!" And with that my girlfriend gives me that same disapproving look I've seen before to signal I'd do well to refrain from saying anything else.

Not that she has anything to worry about of course. The last time I saw Bri-boy was when we were at university.

Wait a minute, that was nearly 15 years ago! "Okay, we can probably delete that one I tell her."

The more names we go through, the more I start to realise that my social pool is shrinking by the second. People who used to be so prominent in my life in those crazy days when I was a bar-hopping party fiend are now nothing more than mere acquaintances at best! 

"I don't think you have seen Paul since you changed jobs, and this number for Simon doesn't even have the correct amount of digits," my girlfriend informs me as I continue to confine my once trusted party contacts to oblivion. "And do you really need your ex-girlfriends number?" she says in a tone which is clear that she is telling me, and not asking me.

By the end of it all my party people contacts are now outnumbered by takeaways and "important contacts" such as the vet. "What has happened to me?" I say rhetorically, but luckily my girlfriend is on hand to answer.

"You're just getting older babe," she says tenderly rubbing her hands through my hair. "The days of you going out all weekend are over. It happens to the best of us. You don't want to be that old guy in the club do you?"

How dare she! Old guy in the club? "Hey, I'm not one of those boring guys who hit their 30s and life starts winding down," I inform her with authority. "I can still party with the best of them! I am not too old to get down in the club I'll have you know!"

"Fine, why don't you give Andy Pintman or the Big BT a call then and see what they're up to tonight?" she sarcastically asks me in response to my rather immature display. 

I slump back into the armchair with my arms folded, before I sheepishly answer: "Because I want to stay in and see who gets through on X-Factor tonight."

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