Bobby and I have been dating for about six months. During that time, I have supported him both emotionally and financially. He’s an aspiring video game designer….so ya know he has to play a lot of video games to ‘test the market’? Anyway, he’s about ten years younger than I am. Our age difference and the fact that I’m the breadwinner has never been an issue…until now. I think he’s starting to resent me. He was my escort to my holiday party at work. I introduced him to my subordinate, Tina a rather attractive woman who is closer to his age than mine. He was flirting with her rather shamelessly, touching the small of her back, whispering in her ear and then at one point he even retrieved an eyelash from her cheek. This was the last straw; I marched across the room and said… “ Oh I see you’ve met my boyfriend, Bobby.” Tina was taken somewhat aback (I don’t blame her). Bobby looked me square in the eye and said “boyfriend… is that what I am… I thought I was your fancy man.” EXCUSE ME?! The next morning he was very apologetic. He gave me the whole “I was drunk… I’m sorry. I really don’t remember that part… I was drunk…” Still, I’m having a hard time letting this go. I’ve taken care of him for months and instead of being grateful he shows himself to be a disloyal embarrassment of a boy. So… do I forgive that fine young bum or what?
—Sugar Momma No More?
Yeah…. F*ck that. Look, I like younger men too but that doesn’t mean they aren’t a handful. You can’t win with them, but you can send them to the Tower. My younger man also turned against me, they always do… it’s that damn masculine arrogance. You can’t give them too much. “An unruly horse must be abated of his provender, that he may be the easier and better managed.”
Instead of being grateful for your affection and an earldom they resent you. My Robert was cute but an idiot so naturally I sent him to Ireland to subdue some revolts, as ya do. It wasn’t a hard job; I thought it’d build his confidence. Well, he found a way to mess that up. Shocker. Instead of apologizing, he freaks out and blames me! Tries to seize MY court! What is that? That’s crap. Naturally, I had to crush the little maggot. Don’t be fooled by your Bobby’s apologies. Don’t be moved when he says things like “my” Yeah… buck-o, you know you shit the bed. But, Bobby like my Robert isn’t actually sorry for his misdeeds, he’s sorry that you’ve withdrawn your attentions.
Off with his head.
I want to be wooed damn it. Bess, what is it with dudes? 90% of the ones I meet are lifeless turds. When I do meet someone who has a higher IQ than a lute (or a lute player… ha! am I right?!) they can’t even be bothered to so much as lend me a handkerchief. Am I asking too much? I just want a drop of romance. I want a man who tells me I’m beautiful, who will take me out for pheasant before ravishes me like the strumpet that I am. I recently met a beautiful but clueless stable hand. Part of me wants to just tell him what to do but is really “courting” if I have to tell him how to woo me?
I feel like that’s kind of a mood killer. Should I say something?
—An Anxious Strumpet
Look, Strumpet, there are two ways to look at this.
You don’t have to play by the heteronormative rules of courtly love. If you like him and you want something then tell him and if he does it… well great. Men aren’t mind-readers. Communication is key. Sure, it’s a tad obnoxious that he can’t just figure it out. But, it’s important to have realistic expectations. A smart intuitive suitor is rare,“one man with a head on his shoulders is worth a dozen without”.
Still, I have a bit of a personal bias. NONE of this wooing and marriage stuff is worth the effort. My mother found it necessary to instruct men in the ways of love. She worked so hard to communicate and look where that got her. She gave my father step by step instructions, she said “Seduce Me. Write Poems… I love poems. Ravish me with your words.” He did. They married. I was born. He killed her.
See, this is why I’m happily single. Sorry, King of Sweden! “I would rather be a beggar and single than a Queen and married.” Cause, we ain’t got time for that sh*t. We gotz to run the country. Hmmm….Does that help?
The love of my life recently became available. His wife died in a tragic and slightly comical way. She tripped on a Slip and Slide and well… slide down the wrong way. Mustn’t laugh. Anyway, Ben was initially questioned in the matter but the thou-tube video exonerated him. After a suitable five day period of mourning he showed up on my door and proposed marriage.
We were childhood sweethearts. But, the problem was always my family… I don’t want to brag or anything but we’ve got a lot of cheddar. A lot. My Dad always thought Ben was a low-life loser and he wasn’t gonna let him marry his little princess. However, thanks to the sweating sickness Daddy’s approval is no longer an issue. What?! I didn’t do it! It was a disease! A disease, I say!
So now, we’re both single, and we’re both orphans… there’s nothing standing in our way. But I”m scared. Why, though? Shouldn’t love conquer all? Why couldn’t I just say “yes” when he asked me to marry him?
—Free at last?
Hmmm. Well, I can think of a few reasons. Family Loyalty? His wife died five days ago? Your trust fund?
Also, blech… marriage! My stepmother used to say, “methinks love makes men angels.” She was abusive crazy-pants. You know what I say? “me-knows that love, or more often lust, turns men into weirdos who may or may not murder you, plot to take your crown, or just psychologically torture you.” Yeah, I’m lookin at you Thomas Seymour.
Back to your problem, I’m still on the slip and slide… are you sure he didn’t push her? Love makes men do insane things. And all of this just sounds a little too convenient. Also, if you’re scared there is probably a reason. “A clear and innocent conscience fears nothing.” I know a little something about suitors who may or may not have killed their wives. Trust me, even if he didn’t do it, that cloud of suspicion will ruin a Twelfth Night feast quicker than an outbreak of the Plague.
But if you’re prepared to handle the gossip and you really want to marry him, then just get a pre-nup, stay away from county fairs and don’t forget to ask your monarch’s permission.