Earlier today, I went to see the new film, Friends With Money, starring Jennifer Aniston, Catherine Keener, Joan Cusack, and Frances McDormand. It follows the lives of three women with money and their husbands. And then there is Jen, who has no money and no husband. They live and they laugh and they fight with their men and slowly figure the hard things out. But they also find time to pair up and talk about the others behind their backs, analyzing each others problems and unhappiness. It's a fairly entertaining and funny film, though for most of it you want to slap somebody on the screen. However, it raises a great point. So, yes, we all have problems. But are our problems so crystal clear to our best of friends? And if so, are they sharing the answers with each other, instead of with us?

The idea of a guy I spoke about earlier. Well, he crystalized into a reality for about all of two seconds. I can be a three date wonder every now and then. I asked a friend later, what was I doing wrong? "They only see you three times?" "Yes. And I now think they spend the entire second time trying to figure out how they'll end it come the third time." His boyfriend piped in. "Are you not putting out on the second date?" I told him no. Most of the time, these three appearances all occur in one week. I'm expected to drop trou in the first week? "Yes", he said. "Otherwise, they think you want a ring. And nobody wants to think about that in the first week." "So maybe I need to start putting out?", I ask him. "If you want to find a man who might stick around, you do."

That was yesterday. Today, I don't really care. I have no prospects, and I've taken a run, and I feel a lot more cool and confident about the fact that I have no relationship now. My heart will go on. But after this movie, I am wondering whether my friends are talking.

"Poor Angel. He's just so alone."

"If he doesn't start putting out on the first date, he's never gonna find a man."

"He just got a new job. He won't have time for anyone"

"I wanted to sleep with him once. Until I found out he was such a headcase."

I know that I am no Jennifer Aniston, and I am certainly not the pothead maid she plays in Friends With Money. But every now and then, it's a challenge to be the only single guy at the table. It's a challenge to be a gay man not looking to get laid in the first twenty minutes of a date. It's a challenge to feel like you know what you want, and to be proud of who you are, when your own friends with money tell you to start whoring to be happier.

Sure I'd like a man. But if it's not in my deck right now, it's not in my deck. Besides, don't I have some scripts to read?

And some friends to talk about?

What about it?