Monday, January 30, 2006

Pregnant Pause

God I hate Mondays. I'm not much in the mood to blog today. Then again, I don't feel much like working either, so I've chosen to write. I say that as my way of apologizing for a post that promises to be even more boring than usual.

On Friday evening, I met with a candidate for our soon to be vacant HR Assistant position. As the department manager, I always feel the need to create a good impression on the people that come in for interviews. In short, that means I need to act professional, courteous, personable, and a bunch of other things that I'm not. With that in mind, when she arrived I straightened my tie, grabbed a business card, and proceeded to the interview room.

We sat down and as we were getting the small talk out of the way, I absent mindedly began to toy with a heavy metal disc that filled the hole in the center of the table. At some point, I picked it up and began to turn it over in my palm. Just after I asked her the first "real" question of the interview, I lost control of the disc. It dropped in my lap, scoring a direct and painful hit on a certain rather sensitive area.

Needless to say, I couldn't do any of the things I'd normally do in that situation, including (but not be limited to) cursing, vomiting, crying, falling down on my knees, and curling into a ball on the floor and clutching the area until the waves of nausea passed. Instead, I was forced to simply nod and pretend that I was paying attention to her answers.

Fortunately, everyone else who met her seemed to like her, so I wound up extending a job offer despite the fact that I can't remember a thing she said.

After that debacle, I wound up going out for drinks with a friend of mine. We hadn't seen each other for a few months and we were having fun catching up on old times. At one point there was a brief lull in the conversation, which she chose to fill by asking if I would consider fathering a child with her. Now prior to that very moment, I'd thought that spit-takes only happened in movies and that people's eyes popping out of their sockets was reserved for cartoons. Needless to say, I was proven wrong on both counts.

The oddest part about the conversation is that it was almost exactly the same as one that I'd had with another friend just a few weeks ago. I couldn't help but to wonder what was going on. It clearly wasn't my looks, (as you can see from looking at my pictures), nor was it my charm or intelligence. In fact, I appear to be sadly lacking in many areas. After further discussion it was revealed that the appeal revolves around my status as a single, unattached guy in their approximate age range.

Oh, and that I'm a "nice guy."

It's not that either one wants to have a relationship with me - a point they both went far, far out of their way to make undeniably and painfully clear to me.

Both expressed a preference to go the "natural" route as opposed to the "clinical" one. However, as much as it appears that these offers represent my last, best chance at having sex in this lifetime (It's not like women are lining up or anything...), I just don't have it in me to do it. Fear of catching a disease aside, I'm not all that into having sex with someone that I don't truly have feelings for. More importantly, I simply can't imagine being the father of a child and being with that child every day.

At this point in my life, I've come to grips with the fact that I'm not likely to have children of my own. That said, if there ever comes a time when I do become a father, it'll be because the person I'm with and I have chosen to do so out of love, and not because someone I know has decided that she wants to have a baby without any contribution from me.

Um...other than that original donation, of course.