Eighteen years on one platform and I can watch it thinning in real time. The people I started with are still there and almost nobody new arrives, because everybody under forty begins on something faster and never hears about the old place. It is not dying exactly. It is ageing, all at once, and the conversation has become a group of people who have known each other a very long time.
Sixty three, Manhattan, switch. Four arrangements over eighteen years, the last of them ended three years ago when he became ill and then, eventually, died.
I am not moving to a product that deals me faces. I have looked and it is not a form I can work in. What I can do is write an advert, which is what I did in nineteen ninety something when this all began, and hope that somebody reads it who is either still in the old place or curious enough to come and see it.
What I want is companionship first and structure after that. Either direction, though at my age I lead more than I am led. Weekly, calm, nothing theatrical.
Not looking for anybody who wants a first meeting to be significant. Not looking to be somebody's education. And not looking for a person who thinks sixty three is either an obstacle or a novelty.