Midlife

Midlife

I have been thinking seriously about having a midlife crisis.
Now I am talking about a ‘crisis’ here not a ‘breakdown’. A crisis where attempt to recapture your youth in a bizarre display of purchasing items you can’t afford to impress people you don’t like and sticking a middle finger up at mainstream society. As opposed to a breakdown where you flip out and decide that a loaded firearm is just what you need to get your point across to those ignorant work colleagues on a Monday morning.
It seems that it is mainly married men who have a midlife crisis so that is one box I don’t get to tick on my application. Will it affect my chances of having a successful crisis? Only time will tell.
Married guys usually send out early signals that they are on their way to midlife ridicule. They stand there with a Cascade Premium Light beer in hand, keep a straight face and tell you why going up to their eyeballs in debt to buy a two door European sports convertible was a good idea. That fact they have a wife, three kids and a Golden Retriever to be ferried around all becomes null and void once they are cruising with the roof down feeling the wind in their ever-thinning hair.
So being single I shouldn’t have any problems with thing like an immediate family getting in the way of my intended rebellion. I don’t want to do the sports car thing as my crisis may be mistaken for me just turning into a pretentious wanker. I have thought about the Kombi Van and surfboard combination but the last thing the general beach going public needs is seeing my blubber squeezed into a rubber suit and rolling around in the shallows like a clubbed seal. I don’t see taking up golf as having a crisis either. That is more a statement that your life is completely over and you are just waiting to die. I believe the word "Golf’ is Latin for "Dead Man Walking". Taking up cycling has been mentioned to me as an option but once again it doesn’t scream "up yours world, I am out of here". Sure it is your thing if you like shaving your legs, squeezing your lolly bag into some Lycra shorts, hanging around a café and swapping chaffing stories with your other delusional friends. But that’s just being pathetic not having a crisis.
My crisis needs a motto like "Born to Lose and Still Lose". I need to quit my job, buy a Harley Davidson Fat Boy, grow a pony tail and get a girlfriend half my age. But just as I think my days of being a loose cannon are about to come rushing back I hit a few hurdles. If I quit my job I won’t be able to afford the repayments on the Harley and the important fact I can’t ride a motorbike really puts the brakes on that idea. I have shaved my head ever since I was 16 so I don’t think I will be getting a pony tail anytime soon and let’s face it guys with long hair are, well, quite frankly, a little fruity. As for the girlfriend half my age, well that’s just ten kinds of creepy.
So where to now? I can’t even pull off a midlife crisis so what hope is there for me. I may not be able to ride a motorbike but I am more than capable around all types of semi and fully automatic firearms. Perhaps I am more suited to a breakdown? Monday at work is looking better already!