Dear Graham,
I’m a fairly normal single bloke in my late twenties. I split up with my last girlfriend about a year ago and since then have had no luck finding a new one. The problem is that every girl I ask out gets really drunk on the first date. The last one passed out (from alcohol) on the dance floor and the one before that was so drunk that I had to carry her into her flat and tuck her up in bed. I’m a gentleman and wouldn’t dream of taking advantage, but this hasn’t exactly done wonders for my confidence. Is there something wrong with me, or am I just picking the wrong girls?
Jim D, Newcastle
Dear Jim,
I read your letter with a growing sense of bewilderment, and then I saw where you live and it all fell into place. If you don’t want to meet hordes of drunk women, I suggest you move.
Dear Graham,
My grandchildren object to my husband (86 and full of vim) smoking his pipe. Brainwashed by their parents, they say that it is a filthy habit and that my poor husband, whose only vice is the occasional puff in his library, is ‘killing’ himself. The other day, when we were on Marlborough High Street, my five-year-old grandson tugged my sleeve, pointed at a complete stranger and said: ‘Granny, please tell that man to stop smoking.’
What makes the young these days so self-righteous and intolerant? In my day, we believed that what didn’t hurt us was none of our business.
Patricia L, Wiltshire
“Next time your grandson mouths off about someone in the street, remind him that the person he is talking about doesn’t still wet the bed, is allowed to stay up late enough to watch South Park and is big enough to go on all the rides at Alton Towers.”
Dear Patricia,
There is no one quite as priggish and full of self-certainty as a child. I suspect it has always been thus, but what has changed are the attitudes of grandmothers. Don’t try to reason with the Nazis in nappies, just tell them to shut up and give them bags of snacks with enough E-numbers in them to keep their parents awake for several days.
Have a bit of backbone. Your husband didn’t live to the ripe old age of 86, smoking his pipe, only to spend his twilight years being hectored by objectionable children. Your argument is really with your own offspring. They should be instilling in their children respect for their elders. Failure to do so is a far greater danger to society than passive smoking.
Next time your grandson mouths off about someone in the street, remind him that the person he is talking about doesn’t still wet the bed, is allowed to stay up late enough to watch South Park and is big enough to go on all the rides at Alton Towers.
Remember there is no law stating that you have to like your grandchildren. It is possible that they are simply not very nice little people.
Dear Graham,
My freeloading cousin, Miles, recently moved in with me and my wife, while looking for a place of his own. He is a lazy slob and within days had succeeded in turning our house upside down. About six weeks into his stay, my wife called me at work. That morning, after I had left, Miles, dressed in only his underpants, entered our room while Polly was still in bed and offered to give her some ‘good and proper loving’.
Naturally, on hearing this, I threw Miles out. But now Polly has confessed that she made the story up to get rid of him. She has apologised, but says she was at her wit’s end.
Just as I never expect to be forgiven by Miles, neither can I excuse my wife. Our relationship now seems tainted.
Charles H, Shropshire
Dear Charles,
The good news is that you and your wife seem perfectly matched. The bad news is that you are both morons. How on earth did either of you allow something as simple as an unwelcome house guest to spiral into this hideous mess?
Your wife’s solution was as overblown as someone who wanted a drink of water calling the fire brigade to come round with hoses. Please don’t feel that I’m placing all the blame on Polly, though. You allowed this intolerable situation to drag on for six weeks, and clearly there was no end in sight. Miles is your cousin and, therefore, on some level, your responsibility.
Your challenge is to learn from this and move on. Polly must communicate her needs to you and you must respond to them.
Charlie and Polly, a marriage made in bedlam.
Dear Graham,
My husband has been out of work for nine months and is being rather lackadaisical about finding a new job. So far he has applied for only a handful of nebulous-sounding managerial jobs on the internet – with no success.
We have four children and I have had to start dipping into my savings to pay the mortgage every month. I don’t feel we can go on like this and, secretly, I’m furious with him. Part of me is quite old-fashioned and, even though I work (part-time), I was brought up to believe that men provide.
The truth is I’m feeling terribly let down. How dare he sit on his bottom all day when we have bills to pay and a family to bring up?
Although he’s doing lots with the children and really helping around the house, there are days when I just want to kick him out of the door in the morning.
Please advise.
Bridget P, Harrogate
Dear Bridget,
What a horrible situation. Although you’ve written to me, I’m sure your husband is just as miserable. You didn’t want to end up married to Mrs Doubtfire and, as sure as Robin Williams has a back hairy enough to shave into a map of Barcelona, your husband never wanted the role either.
I imagine his confidence is at an all-time low and that is why he is being a bit lazy about applying for jobs. Without doubt he will know how disappointed you are in him and that won’t be helping his state of mind. What must be truly frustrating for both of you is that this problem has such a quick easy fix – get a job!
Keep the faith because he will and then, like magic, the hell you are both going through will be a distant memory. Talk to your husband, don’t nag him. Does he want to start looking in different areas? Does he want to learn new skills? Is it time he changed direction?
I know that a ‘yes’ to these questions will mean you have to dip further into your savings, but, if this isn’t the rainy day, when will it be?
You sound like a strong woman, Bridget, so hang in there. This will pass.
Oh, and if all else fails, tell him to get in touch. I need a part-time dog walker.
Dear Graham,
I came back from work early one day to find my husband of seven years standing in front of a mirror dressed in my fishnets and high heels and in the midst of wrapping himself up in one of my Diane von Furstenberg dresses. I was so shocked, I was literally speechless. Curiously, he was so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn’t even notice me in the doorway. What on earth could have possessed him to dress up in my clothes? He is a devoted husband, loving father and, until now, has displayed no strange sexual tendencies. If anything, he’s straighter than most men (Army background, partner in a law firm, etc).
I’m feeling very confused and couldn’t possibly talk to anyone I know about it. Can you help?
Pamela T, Cheltenham
Dear Pamela,
It’s Diane Von Furstenberg I feel sorry for. She probably has no idea that her lovely dress is being squeezed over the hips of an ex-Army lawyer and, even worse, worn with fishnets. And in Cheltenham! I certainly hope that your husband didn’t get his sense of style from you, Pamela.
After seven years of marriage, a little cross-dressing in the privacy of your own home shouldn’t threaten your relationship. I imagine that there is a little corner of his mind that wants to feel sexy and special, which by implication means that is how he feels about you.
Doubtless, he will be mortified if you mention your discovery. But I think you must, or the secret becomes yours instead of his and you don’t need or want that burden.
Apart from stretching some expensive gowns, I can’t see what harm he is doing. And you never know, a night between the sheets with him in some silky underwear might just scratch
the seven-year itch.
Dear Graham,
Did you see Boris Johnson’s recent column [Daily Telegraph, 12 July]? Did you read about all those poor girls nurtured on the meringue-laden pages of Brides magazine who long to have a ring on their finger?
Boris blames the dating crisis on the growth in the number of underachieving working-class men – the ASBOs and the hoodies. But I’d say the lack of decent chaps is just as common in the middle classes. Perhaps even in the upper?
My (middle-class) mother wasn’t allowed to go to university because her father believed it would make her ‘unmarriageable’ (she married her first boyfriend at 21). Savage and politically incorrect though it might sound, did my grandfather have a point?
I’m typical of my generation of middle-class girls, ie highly educated (university degree plus PhD), averagely attractive, still young enough to have a family (33) and permanently single. I’d like to know what’s going on. Where are all the men? What are we supposed to do if we want marriage and children?
Helena F, Suffolk
Dear Helena,
I despair of you. You think that it is your enormous intellect which is frightening men off and yet you are so stupid that you are taking something that Boris Johnson said seriously and, what’s more, writing to me and expecting me to do the same. How on Earth do you think that hoodies with ASBOs are causing a dating crisis? Have you and Boris not noticed that for every spotty-faced youth breaking car aerials there is a greasy-haired lovely with pink and grey marbled legs leaning against a nearby wall, fag in hand?
There is a lid for every pot or, in this case, a hood for every thug. If you really want to date, spread your net wider – or lower your standards. Finding a partner isn’t like filling in a job application. The old adage about kissing a lot of frogs is true except it’s highly unlikely that you will ever find a prince, merely an acceptable frog – step forward, Boris.
There is no dating crisis, just a generation of people who have been lied to and promised more than our parents’ generation. Harness the intelligence you claim you have and realise that men are simple creatures and always have been. Send out the right signals and they will come. Laugh at their jokes, find them interesting and most of all, on the first few dates – don’t compete!
If that sounds unbearable, then enjoy being single because it really is your choice.
Dear Graham,
My 33-year-old boyfriend is being posted to Luxembourg for two years and has asked me to go with him. Apparently it’s one of the dullest places on earth – full of very rich, very old people and their very small dogs. I simply can’t face it. If it was Paris, New York or even Madrid, I’d go like a shot. But Luxembourg? He’s very excited about it but then he grew up in Lincolnshire.
Please let me know how I can stay put without breaking up with him.
Oriel D, Herts
Dear Oriel,
I can’t quite put my finger on why I find your letter annoying, but I do. Let’s be brief. Tell him the truth. You have made a complicated problem out of something that is very simple. He’s moving somewhere for two years where you don’t want to go. I don’t think you are being that unreasonable since I’m assuming you have a job and friends.
It’s simply a case of planning your holidays together and doing a couple of weekends a month. He’s not going to the moon and it’s only 24 months. If he takes the hump and dumps you, then it probably wouldn’t have lasted anyway.
Maybe that’s why I found your letter irritating – it’s not really a problem.
Dear Graham,
I fear my 52-year-old wife is becoming a laughing stock. The problem is that she has started using the same ‘street’ slang as our 15-year-old daughter, who, like all her privately educated friends, is currently going through a ‘Jafaican’ phase. The other evening she described a mutual acquaintance as ‘butters’ and she peppers her conversation with words like ‘sick’ and ‘bare’, which I have deduced mean ‘great’ and ‘very’.
Quite apart from the fact that I find it a horribly embarrassing affectation in an otherwise sensible middle-aged woman from Berkshire, she is becoming almost as difficult to understand as our daughter. How do I tell her she is making a fool of herself?
Anthony P, Chilton
Dear Anthony,
You are so distracted by the 52-year-old Ali G getting the reusable Waitrose bags out of the boot of the car that you have missed your first problem – your 15-year-old daughter lives in Berkshire but she is speaking like a Jamaican drug dealer. What happened to Pony Club? Have the Girl Guides become the Ku Klux Klan with berets?
Your family is spiralling out of control and all you do is write to me. Put down the paper, Anthony, and act!
How do you tell your wife she is making a fool of herself? She is over 50 and I presume you have been married for at least 15 years. You say: ‘Darling, you are making a fool of yourself.’
Personally, I would be tempted to follow this with: ‘…and I want a divorce’, but you are clearly a nicer person than I am. Happily, your spouse has handed you a secret weapon in your battle against your daughter’s stupidity. Take her aside and ask her how pathetic she thinks her mother sounds. Then reveal to her the awful truth – that she sounds that lame to the rest of the world.
If this doesn’t bring her to her senses, then I fear the only realistic option is for you and your family to emigrate to Jamaica.
Dear Graham,
When does a tipple in the evening become one drink too many? I live on my own and when I take the bins out on a Tuesday evening I’m always a bit shocked by the number of clanking bottles in my orange recycling bag. Somehow no evening is complete without a lovely glass or two (or three) of vino. And thanks to my giant balloon-shaped Riedel glasses I can (almost) fool myself I’m keeping within the recommended limits.
It’s a rare day that I practise any kind of temperance and among my friends, all 30-something professionals with hectic social lives, my drinking is normal. None of us is ever drunk, in the rowdy, destructive sense of the word. We don’t run wild in town centres, terrorise our neighbours or beat up our loved ones. We just consume an awful lot of Rioja and then talk an awful lot of rubbish.
Without giving up completely (no AA meetings for me!), I’d like to quietly cut down. Any tips?
Patsy T, west London
Dear Patsy,
I admit to a certain self-consciousness as I attempt to give you advice. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been at the bottle bank unloading the debris of my own personal consumption when a passer-by has asked: ‘Been having a party?’ Too often I wake in my house in rooms that aren’t my bedroom and there are nights when I wouldn’t like to stand in a court of law under oath and describe exactly what happened.
Do I have a problem? I don’t ever cancel appointments due to hangovers, show up at work with vomit on my shoes or wake up in the street, so I choose to say no. Should I cut down? Probably.
Of course, the question we should both be asking ourselves is: can we cut back? There is an attitude with drink that it has to be all or nothing, but that seems as if you are giving alcohol all the power. You need to learn to control it and not the other way round. An obvious thing to do would be to invest in smaller glasses. Spritzers are an option for the white-wine drinker, but perhaps the easiest thing to do is bring in some rules. No wine before 8.30, perhaps, or no drinking alone.
If you have real trouble doing any of these things, maybe your problem is more serious. It’s hard to say what the difference is between a bon viveur and a drunken slag. Tread carefully.
Dear Graham,
I’m a 39-year-old gay guy who runs a thriving investment firm. I have a good group of friends, most of whom have been happily coupled off for seven years or more. Meanwhile, I struggle to get a decent date with anyone remotely compatible. A lot of the guys I meet seem content to be single and short-termist.
I go to gay social groups and bars in the right part of town, but it doesn�
��t seem to help. Internet dating has also failed. Potentially part of the problem is that I’m a little on the serious side, nearer Owl than Tigger, with perhaps a dash of Eeyore. I’m not exactly hunk material – not a Shrek but more than a hint of Mr Bean.
I ought to be satisfied with the prosperity my career has brought me, but the absence of a companion is really getting me down. I can’t get a dog because I travel too much. Any advice?
Simon J, Manchester
Dear Simon,
Stop. Deep breaths. You seem to know a great deal about yourself and practically nothing about other people. True, a bookish Mr Bean won’t fly off the shelves, but it can’t help matters when you equate getting a pet with having a relationship with a fully functioning human being. Boyfriends tend to be slightly more complicated than a dog that is able to feed himself when you are away.
You might also consider how attractive it is for someone who is nearly 40 to describe everything in terms of children’s cartoon characters. Not cute.
The reality is that you may never meet the man of your dreams because he only exists in dreams. You need to get on with the life you’re actually living. How many happy marriages have been eaten away waiting for the baby that never arrived? How many fabulous people judge their own lives a failure because they haven’t got a partner?
Don’t waste all the happiness you could have in your life by pining for something that may never happen. We can’t pick and choose the lives we lead. There is no emotional equivalent of ‘must have outdoor space’ and so I suggest you embrace the here and now. You don’t have to lie about it to yourself or others. Yes, you’d like to be with someone, but it seems that isn’t on the cards.
The only practical bit of dating advice I can give you is to leave Manchester, where there are far too many gay men. Move to some little town where, because of a lack of choice, you may find someone willing to go out with you. Nobody would choose canned vegetables, but if that’s all there is in the cupboard…
Ask Graham Page 7
