Although man has progressed beyond recognition over the centuries, for better or for worse, certain things remain as big a mystery as when Adam first attempted to woo Eve with a mouldy Braeburn apple; the dating game, where the mysteries and complexities remain as baffling and as challenging as since time began, continues to evolve. And, whilst there are those that will vigorously challenge this – mainly tattooed, skinhead females in cargo pants – the burden of the chase remains with the man as it ever was. And just in case you ever think you have mastered, the art the sands will inevitably shift and its time to learn new tricks again.
Take your mind back, if you can, to school days and the first time you got that dry mouthed, banging heart sensation when you set eyes on the new – if likely to change the following week – object of your desires. The very sight of her was enough to erase all coherent thoughts from your head and lose the less coherent in an instant, most notably the complexities of algebra. Like the screen of the Etch-A-Sketch toy, one look at her and it was an instant swipe out of anything other than her presence. Sadly, once in her presence, the automatic disengaging of your brain cancelled anything remotely interesting, attractive or, most importantly, cool thing to say leaving you to contemplate a lifetime as a mute nerd.
The Laws of Attraction
So we boys often resorted to trying to attract our “mate” in other ways than mere words or apples; generally these ended up inflicting pain and creating unintended and unwanted feelings of loathing from the sweetheart in question. A rubber thrown across the classroom, with the intention of skimming her head to demonstrate our “charm”, would inevitably hit her flush between the eyes, almost blinding her in an instant. Similarly, attempts to get her attention in the corridors were fraught with danger as both sets of friends sensed an opportunity for a public hanging, which they invariably got. Courage was in short supply in those early teenage years; even on good days of strong resolve, you could guarantee a new big yellow spot to emerge right on your nose, resisting the efforts of a whole tube of Clearasil, dissolving that built up store of good intentions.
Brave or Stupid?
I do remember one friend – we were around fifteen – who shall remain protected as G but who displayed immense courage in his almost obsessive pursuit of B, undeterred by the reality of a hopeless cause and the derision of his peers. The object of his – indeed all of ours – desires, B was a fifteen year old goddess that filled her navy blue acrylic school sweater like no other girl in the school; she was a woman, probably the first most of us had ever obsessed about if you discounted the French teacher. G was neither in the school football team, had beaten anybody up in his life nor possessed anything other that pure conviction to back up his obsession to woo B. Plus he was ginger which meant he was a non-runner from the off.
One day, fed up of our taunts, he announced that he was going to ask out B and, to cap it all, we could all watch so stuff you in effect; he was “going over the top” and would make his assault head on. The moment came as boys faced off against the girls from equal vantage points at both ends of the pre-fab link corridor. It could have been the soundtrack to Grease playing, although I can’t imagine a ginger Travolta, as B moved effortlessly towards us, that magnificent chest straining against the weakening acrylic, shiny long hair bouncing off her shoulders and not a trace of teenage acne to dampen our ardours. And G went so casually up, shaking inside his own acrylic sweater but displaying rare courage under fire and boldly asked what we all wanted so much to as well. True she said no – then again she would have given us all the same answer as we were boys in her midst – but G had reached a higher plane and no more would any of us simply use a rubber projectile to hide our affections…at least for many years to come.
Doh!
I could have done with a bit more coaching from G in truth as, several months later, I was told that a certain girl “fancied me”. What was wrong with her I wondered? This was a bit of a bonus as she had clearly missed me leering at her for the last six months, wondering how to communicate whilst resisting the temptation to throw my rubber at her. Now, after several months of delaying the inevitable “will you have babies with me” I decided I needed to show courage…Ginger style. It was then that I realised I would have a lifetime affliction for saying completely the wrong thing – I was that nerd – as, with her right arm in pot post a fall, I proposed our first date could be a game of tennis. She wrote me off in an instant and it was back to the drawing board.
Of course, as you get older you discover a new “friend” to assist your efforts on the dating game: alcohol. Such a reliable “friend”, you can blame alcohol for most misdemeanours as life’s possibilities expand. It was always far easier to chance a “romantic” proposal at a house party with the comfort of a Tetley’s Five Pint can – whatever happened to those – knowing that any rejection would soon be numbed by downing the contents of the can and that the can itself was big enough to cuddle all night and throw up into in the morning.
Big Bertha from Bramley
Long before the advent of today’s modern game – internet dating – there was the “blind date” an occasion so fraught with combinations of despair, horror and desolation that nobody who has ever been on one will remember them with any fondness. My nadir was the result of one of the girls at work convincing me, after weeks of cajoling, to meet her friend who was “ideal…the perfect woman for you”. How I believed that this colleague could have any idea what would be my “ideal”, given that I was almost thirty and showed no signs of understanding the bare notion of commitment should have been a clue. This is where vanity – or sheer desperation – takes over and so the date was set up.
I made three fundamental mistakes: firstly, actually agreeing to this: secondly, telling two friends where I would be: finally, not scarpering like a car thief as she unloaded herself from a groaning Fiat Panda giving new meaning to “a few extra pounds”. As she waddled across the car park and the car wearily righted itself, a last minute temptation to hide behind the dashboard was lost in the sheer panic. I sat frozen in my seat knowing that this would be the worst couple of hours of my short life to date. It was so good of my two friends to turn up and sit opposite me all night to witness my pain, like a gaping wound slowly bleeding to death on the spot before I uttered those inimitable words “I’ll call you”.
The Brave New World
These days we have internet dating. According to Match.com, one of the industry big boys, apparently one on five relationships now start online and the advent of internet dating appears to have taken all the risk out of the classic blind date scenario. My initial entry into this world was several years ago. It was mid-summer and the love life had once again taken a back seat to the thwack of willow on leather, the intoxicating aromas of linseed rather than aromatic oils and cut grass on a 22 yard strip not a summer meadow. I was driving between sales appointments, trying to earn a crust or probably find somewhere to sleep, and was tuned in to Radio Two’s Jeremy Vine Show where today’s hot topic was that of internet dating.
According to the show, at that time a few years ago, there were some 12m single people in the UK – including me – and over 8m of us using some form of internet dating – not including me. The reasons expanded on to explain this were many and varied. For instance, gone are the days of hanging around the factory gates or the “thrill” of the weekly dance; pubs are almost a no go as most of them are shutting and night clubs, for so many of us, are a thing of yesteryear unless they ever introduce bunk beds in the corner. As the debate ended it seemed perfectly clear to me that this, hitherto unexplored concept, required some rather detailed research; I may have been missing something.
There are all manner of statistics around internet dating and it seems to be one of the few sectors of the economy that has proven to be recession proof. Most of the long established taboos have vanished as attitudes have changed and the growth of the internet has made dating via a click of the keyboard accessible to all. Anybody starting out to explore internet dating can easily be overwhelmed by the sheer choice out there or so it would appear. Many brands are simply owned by the big players in the market place as, like most other markets, there has been a rapid consolidation in recent years.
My first attempt was more fatally flawed than Panda Woman, largely because I did not actually have a computer. Well, actually I did, but as Barclays owned it their firewall seemed to object to my attempts at a more rounded lifestyle; happy employees make more productive ones…I was never going to win that one with Human Resources. As a consequence I had to keep nipping next door to check out the latest “perfect matches”. Cries from my neighbour – who was instantly hooked from the safe cradle of married life allowing him to view with impunity – of “porker” were met with regular thwacks around the head from his wife, perhaps overly sensitive about her post natal weight.
Come Fly With Me
It is a brutal process which works both ways, with picture after picture popping up for an instant dismissal if she does not remotely look like a supermodel, conveniently forgetting you don’t actually know any nor have ever come close to dating one and can only dream of looking like George Clooney. If you get as far as reading a profile or two things can come to a rapid end as she explains how she so wants to share a bungee jump with her “soul mate” and spend a year backpacking, living on insects to “connect with herself”. The fact is that most of the people on dating sites are lunatics and you, by being there as well, are probably one of them.
Over the years I have revisited the industry from time to time – depending on the level of desperation – and it is fascinating to see the ever expanding choices on offer. For instance there is Mature Dating, presumably with a drop-down option for Own Teeth and optional colostomy bag? And there are all sorts of sites guaranteed to lose you your house in a moment of madness with Thai, Asian and Russian dating sites to name but a few; impossibly beautiful women offering all forms of temptation for a knee trembler followed by a passport and a council flat.
You quickly learn how to decipher certain elements of phraseology; for instance.
“A few extra pounds” – enormous
“Young looking” – many decades ago
“Busy lifestyle” – six kids
“Wants to travel the world” – on your credit card
“Not a bunny boiler” – run Bright Eyes, run!
Social Media Or Social Armageddon?
The good thing about any “dates” is that you make sure you schedule them during the day – so you see how many wrinkles – and as soon as the coffee goes cold you remember you forgot your Gran’s birthday – even if she’s been dead twenty years. Sugar levels boosted by a slice of cake and with an injection of caffeine you almost feel, at long last, as brave as G did all those years ago.
The reality is that, tempted as we are to scorn the youth of today for being obsessed with technology, those of us still out in Dating Land are just as reliant on IT even though we have only just come to terms with the disappearance of Betamax and have not got a clue what they mean when they are talking about 4G. A brave new world it may well be but I think my G had it right all along and maybe B missed out on a good bet?
Phil Baxendale says
Love the way that the ” Meet Asian Women online” pops up at the foot of the article!
Steve Wilson says
Funny I got Mature Dating…sign of the times!