NYC’s Toxic Bachelor Is Now L.A.’s Guy Gone Mild

“Somehow it’s OK for moms to have their wine nights. But try getting dispensation for a weekly bender with your fellow dads,” writes author and playwright Rick Marin. “Never happen. At a certain point, your typical Family Guy stops seeking out the Company of Men ‐‐ and all his references are Netflixed. We don’t get out much. We turn hermit, unless thrust together by forces beyond our control. Like our wives. ‘Do you enjoy the friends your wife has picked out for you?’ a buddy asked when we moved to L.A. a couple of years ago. Matter of fact I do. But there’s only so much quality bro time you can squeeze in at a 5‐year‐old’s birthday party.”

OK, before you get too caught up in the discussion about whether husbands and dads get equal treatment in the Nights Out department, focus on who’s leveling the complaint (however sweetly cushioned it is). It’s Rick Marin.

The Rick Marin who wrote Cad: Confessions of a Toxic Bachelor about his personal contribution to the neuroses of New York women. The man who wiped his hands with the dignity of 80 percent of New York’s female population. That Rick Marin.

Guess that whole yearning for love and stability thing wasn’t just a literary device. He found his woman. Now he lives in Los Angeles and has so little freedom he has to resort to co-founding a book club to watch YouPorn.

Life is too funny.