The Real 40 Year Old Virgin: Of Orange County

By Anthony Tarquinto

Youve seen the movie. Now read the book! We found one. A real live forty-year-old virgin, in Orange County, California, of all places! So if youve ever wondered what goes on in the mind of a forty-year-old straight male whos never . . . well, you know . . . read on! From politics, to business, to religion, and culture, the Virgin covers it all. But youd better have your homework done because its fast and furious. For more, check out www.orangecountyvirgin.com and click on the blog for the latest updates.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 13, 2010
• ISBN: 9781450023108

Anthony Tarquinto

Tony Tarquinto is a Certified Medical Representative with a concentration in Science and Medicine and holds a Bachelor’s degree in Business Administration from Fordham University. Tony spent ten years as a professional sales representative for Johnson & Johnson and makes his home in Aliso Viejo, California. For information on The Certified Medical Representative Institute please go to www.CMRInstitute.org. For information on Fordham University please go to www.Fordham.edu.

Book preview

ONE

The Sixteen Year Mistake

I turned 40 on November 12, 2009. If you’ve ever wondered what goes on in the mind of a 40 year-old straight male who’s never had sex, this is for you. All three of you. I always believed that someday I’d lose my virginity. Never in my worst nightmare could I have ever imagined I’d lose my country first. I can’t believe this is happening. What are the odds of being around to witness the worst peril America has been in since the Civil War?

My first day in high school I showed up in a brand new I-Zod with a brand new haircut and got laughed right out of the building. That was it. Never had a girlfriend. Never had a date. Missed the prom. Never held hands with a girl. Four years of futility. My escape was always business. I became a business junkie in the eighth grade. Every time a girl turned me down I went home, opened up my father’s textbooks from college and read them. Accounting, finance, marketing, statistics, economics, you name it. Reading was my outlet. I put myself in a shell and closed myself off from further rejection. I became a virtual recluse. Mark Sptiznagel of Univera Investments wrote in the May 28 Wall Street Journal about the how the Federal Reserve Bank’s zero-interest rate policy creates unsound market volatility:

All you need to know about market dynamics—as I learned as a Chicago pit trader—is that market prices always adjust to the level where market makers see balanced two-way order flow between buyers and sellers. All market makers want to do is buy at the bid price, sell at the offer price, and at the end of the day go home unscathed. When there are only buy orders, for instance, expect market makers to be unwilling to sell to those buyers until the price has adjusted to the point where they see roughly equal buyers and sellers again.

Further in the article he elaborates on how the Fed actually skews true asset values:

So when the Fed distorted the cost of capital following the 2008 collapse by lowering it for many by roughly 2% (to about 0% for banks), it had the same effect as the 2% higher aggregate dividend yield for stocks or higher credit spreads for investment grade bonds. Suddenly what was toxic looked cheap.1

Market makers must keep their powder dry. I was fourteen years old and I completely understood how broker-dealers and market-makers gauge risk and trade based on instinctive perception of buy and sell order flow. As a freshman in high school I could explain to you the concept of warehousing thinly traded securities so that liquidity could be maintained in tight markets. Honestly, this is something that scares away the average high school female. When I did manage to get the nerve to ask a girl out, it was like, Hey Lori, wanna go to the malt shop with me and read the Wall Street Journal? There’s a great article on Michael Milken. Drexel’s finished, you know. Personally I wouldn’t touch high-yield bonds with a ten foot pole . . .

Sounds nice, Tony, but I can’t. Tomorrow night, I . . . umm . . . I’m having my wisdom teeth pulled. Oh, and it’s the season premiere of Falcon Crest. Maybe some other time. I heard it all.

I had two dates in college, kissed a few girls, but that was it. Four more years of futility. Like the guy in the Steve Carell movie, it just never happened. I asked the usual questions. What’s wrong with me? Why am I so shy? Am I that stupid looking? Plus in those days the feminist movement was still going. I kept hearing girls telling each other, You don’t need a man in your life, A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle, and You’ve come a long way baby. So I thought, OK, got it. Guess I’m not needed, and I went on my merry way. Big mistake.

Besides, maybe I was burned out. Maybe I needed a break from chasing women. When I got out of college in 1992 I went to work. Before long, I had a good job. Then a really good job. Then my dream job. I did better than I could ever have imagined. I made money. I ate well. I lived comfortably. I had friends. I traveled. The hardest part about going from hero to zero is when the cheering stops. For sixteen years everything I touched turned to gold. People loved me. Everywhere I went, every job I took, every assignment I took, I was a winner. I was the go-to guy. My mangers trusted me. When something really important needed to be done, they called me. And I delivered.

Between 1993 and 2008 my life was so fulfilling and happy that I told myself that I didn’t need companionship. The last sixteen years were a blur. I was so busy and having so much fun that I talked myself into believing that a girlfriend wasn’t important. I boycotted women. Call it a girlcott.

Again, big mistake. I was such a fool. It is OK to be celibate. It is OK to abstain from sex. It is not OK to isolate yourself from women. I kept making excuses. If the feminists didn’t need a man then I didn’t need a woman. I’m different from everyone else. I can be perfectly happy being alone. I function well by myself. Then came 2008 and it all ended. I lost the job, the company car, the house, the 401(k) and my precious career. It’s all gone now. While picking up the pieces it hit me that I’ve never even really had a girlfriend. I have nothing to show for the last sixteen years. Not even a picture. The pictures would have been nice. I always wanted a picture of me and a girl at some nice restaurant near the ocean or on the beach on an overcast O.C. morning. It’s the memories that count.

Volunteering information about your private life is bad. Really bad. Like, so bad that the only reason you’d do it is because it might draw attention to your message. I would never do something so drastic if not for the danger that we are in. If I have to go through a ringer of scorn so be it. I don’t mind being the national embarrassment if it means saving my country. My theory is this: If I am willing to be so brutally honest about something so embarrassing, why would I lie about anything? I’m hoping that some liberal will hear me and say, Wait a minute. Maybe this virgin guy is onto something. Maybe he’s right. If this guy is willing to be so open and honest about something so personally humiliating, why would he lie about anything else? I mean, this guy’s life is over. He’ll never work again. He must be really serious if he’s willing to reveal something like that.

Perhaps a naïve college student will reconsider. Maybe some sophomore at Princeton will ask, "What if Dr. Singer is lying? What if life really does begin at conception? Maybe America is a good country. Maybe conservatives are right. Maybe I’m being brainwashed here." Trust me kid, you are being brainwashed. Peter Singer is a disgrace. So is Ward Churchill. So was Howard Zinn. Carbon emissions have no impact on the earth’s climate. Neither do greenhouse gasses. The earth is fine. It’s the world you should be worried about.

But I’m trying to get through to Catholics. I was baptized and confirmed a Catholic. I was educated by Jesuits, so I can speak to this. Catholics at times are so naïve it angers me. I talk about various points in history where villains have taken over societies and millions of innocent people were wiped out. I often refer to Russia and China because that’s where most of the murders took place. Between 1917 and 1999 almost 100 million innocent human beings were put to death by socialism. It could never happen here, is the Catholic answer. Oh really? Ever heard of abortion? Did you know that between 1973 and 1990 over 20 million American children were slaughtered in abortion clinics? Catholics in America, wake up. It did happen here.

It breaks my heart to say this, but the Democratic Party is the party of abortion. I denied it for years. I ran away from the truth. I didn’t want to confront it. I tricked myself into believing it wasn’t true. I accepted euphemisms like choice, and woman’s right to choose, and reproductive rights. Destructive phrases that emanate from Ivy League campuses can sneak up on you and lure you into apathy. Life does matter. Life is all that counts. Catholics, wake up. You have no idea what’s happening to your country. Catholics, you can no longer vote for Democrats. In fact, nobody should be voting for Democrats, especially us.

The Pinnacle of American Exceptionalism was the small window of time between the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and Roe v. Wade in 1973. That nine year period was the height of The Republic. Morally, culturally and economically, America was at its best. Those were the halcyon days. We actually put a man on the moon. The world saw near perfection for nine years. It all went downhill after Roe v. Wade. I was born in 1969, in the middle of those glorious years.

I want America to the return to the way it was on the day I was born. It was such a better country then. As capitalists, the standard of economic success is Gross Domestic Product. I want America to lead the world in GDP growth. In 2001 the United States accounted for 32% of total world GDP. Today America’s share of world GDP is 24%. There is no excuse for this decline. The Heritage Foundation’s 2010 Index of Economic Freedom ranks the United States eighth in the world, behind Canada.2 We shouldn’t be behind Canada in anything, let alone economic freedom. There is no excuse for America not being number one and I won’t stand for anything less. We have to get back there.

As Catholics, the standard is morality. American Catholics have lost their way. While America still leads the world in morality, we’re slipping. If I have to spend the rest of my life fighting for my country so be it. I’m not doing anything until I feel secure that America is on the right track. I’m not talking to women. I’m not even going to look at women until I get my country back. I don’t care if I have to spend the rest of my life alone. It might take that long, but I’m not quitting. I want my state back. I want my country back.

TWO

Worth Saving

California is our most beautiful state. California has more natural resources than any other state. California has the most variegated landscape and vegetation in North America. The colorful desert, manicured grass and meticulously sculpted palm trees line the ocean bluffs. Eucalyptus trees, cactus and ice plants combine with the majestic blue, purple and red sky to form the perfect mosaic. California has a wonderful climate, especially along the coast. In the winter, Los Angeles and San Diego have daytime highs in the 70’s, nighttime lows in the 50’s. It’s pretty much the same in San Francisco. In the summer, L.A. and San Diego are covered by an early morning marine layer which provides a shield from the scorching heat of Palm Springs, Phoenix, Las Vegas and the rest of the southwest. Cool currents streaming up from the Baja make for balmy afternoons.

The United States is the apex of western culture, and you can’t get anymore west than California. Manifest Destiny inspired many to pull up roots in the east and take a chance. Go West Young Man was the order of the day. California became the final frontier. What a remarkable coincidence that it was so beautiful and temperate. Through the Gold Rush,