The Mysteries of the Biological Clock

Wow, it’s been over a month! I guess I’m kinda sharing time between so many sodding things these days, there is just little time left over to make up semi-amusing rants about inane subjects.

One thing that did jump to mind today was the biological clock.

I was descending the escalator at our local shopping emporium and I noted that coming up on the opposite one was a woman in her mid-30s with a couple of young kids hanging off her.

Nothing unusual about that. She was not bad looking I suppose. Now you wouldn’t glance twice at her but, you know, she was alright.

Beside her was a fairly out-of-shape, triple-chinned, dorky-looking, besepctabled, most unsexy bloke you could imagine. As I say, she wasn’t likely to pop up in any fantasies but she wasn’t hideous.

She was certainly not physically matched to this guy. I’m sure he’s very nice and all but, you know, I would have expected him to be with the human equivalent of Velma from Scooby Doo.

That’s when it clicked. This woman hit 30, the biological clock took over, and this guy was in the right place at the right time. Now maybe she’s happy, maybe she’s not. But the chances that her heart made the decision over her head are pretty slim.

Which is more than could be said for her bloke.

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