Mankind is changing. When I say mankind, I don’t mean the collective mass of beautiful bodies that inhabit this spinning rock.
No, I mean men, blokes.
Working with some young guys this week (I like to think of them as Man: Version 4.6), their approach to socialising is a million miles from our seemingly dated traditions.
I was earwigging on one conversation where one chap was keenly probing the other about his new girlfriend.
Which clothes and cars she liked, where she likes to party.
He even talked about her becoming ‘intense and hard work’ – all seemingly normal and relatable. Then he dropped the virtual bombshell.
The new girlfriend is a selection of pixels and not in a good way like Kelly LeBrock from Weird Science – she lives in his new computer game, Grand Theft Auto V.
Like a buffoon I suggested trying to get a real girlfriend, you know, maybe one that actually breathes and has the ability to enjoy another human’s company.
Being too busy was the general consensus.
I suspect playing computer games for six hours a day leaves little time for any form of relationship.
Doesn’t bode well for the continuation of our species either.
The other noticeable shift is the growing army of men that have been consumed by baking.
My nans used to bake, my mum enjoys baking, my seven-year-old daughter destroys the house baking.
But when did baking become a pastime that men got all frothy about?
I’m not insinuating that it’s solely a female activity by any stretch, but in the past the only time I remember baking was at infant school.
Eight jam tarts that looked like they were cooked whilst re-entering the Earth’s atmosphere.
Turning down the invite to participate in a work ‘bake-off’ was met with some disappointment.
But I’m afraid that having a night in to fluff the muffins and catch up with the imaginary girlfriend is a bit beyond this old dog.