Over drinks a few nights ago, a friend and I were talking about sex and whether or not men, past a certain age, still like to “brag” about their conquests. He said he used to be friends with a guy who always shared a new story over beers, but that he [my friend] eventually stopped hanging out with him. I’m paraphrasing here but the conversation [printed with permission] went something like this:”If he called me up and needed something I’d be there for him. I just lost interest in hearing his stories.””Did his stories make you uncomfortable?” I asked.”Not at all. I just didn’t care. I didn’t see what the big deal was about any of it. You had sex with a 23 year old and you’re 40. Whoopee. You met a girl on Match and she grabbed your junk in the cab on the first date. Why do I care?”He wasn’t passing judgment on the guy’s sex life or his choices. He just didn’t understand how these stories where entertaining, interesting or relevant to him.”When I was younger, maybe even up until I was in my early thirties, those stories made for fun conversation on a night out with the guys. Back then I wasn’t looking for anything serious myself so I guess they were kind of interesting to some degree. I think I stopped finding them interesting around the same time I moved in with my girlfriend at the time.

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