Choosing love

Many years ago I sat at a private table opposite a kind, attentive man. He wasn’t attractive but he was certainly fascinating. I listened carefully to every word he spoke while he held my hand, because I knew what he said was just for me. I tried my best record each word, knowing I’d want to savour them later, that they’d be something I’d turn over again and again. Some of them have slipped away from me or become lost in my mental archives, but one thing I still remember clearly:

“It’s the man’s right to ask, but it’s the woman’s right to choose,” Psychic Carl of Penrith told me, glancing at me briefly while his divining hands continued to tap mine. It was an empowering (if not slightly terrifying) statement, especially since it came from a happily married man with eight children. It was enough to make me feel the $40 fee and the long drive out west had been worth it, whether Carl was really psychic or not.

On Sunday I opened the Sunday Life with trepidation. The Valentine’s Day Issue: way to sour my weekend, Fairfax. I’m having enough problems adjusting to living alone after travelling with friends for a month. I don’t need reminding that Cupid’s arrow has still failed to hit me. But Mark Gimein’s article A few good men provided me with a delightful explanation as to why I’m single. And it was all based on the same theory as Psychic Carl’s maxim: that the woman is generally the one who chooses whether a man will marry her. The man asks the question. The woman decides and answers.

Gimein believes this convention is the reason there are more eligible women than men out there (his words, guys, not mine!). He likens the situation to an auction. Women who are confident that they’re good catches (or ‘strong bidders’) hold out for a really great deal, because they feel they have qualities that provide them with more choice. Less confident women, the ‘weak bidders’, think they’re the underdog and so bid more aggressively, often clinching the deal while the strong bidders are considering their options.

Now I don’t believe Gimein’s theory explains why I’m single, although he does argue a strong case. But I’m perfectly happy to tell myself that the reason there was no Valentine’s Day date for me this year is because I’m a strong bidder. Gimein’s philosophy might not have the resonance of Psychic Carl, but it’ll get me through the week until the Cupid decorations come down.

I’d love to know what you think of Gimein’s theory. Drop me a line and let me know.

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In the spirit of anti-Valentine’s Day, I’d like to share with you something I hate. I HATE cricket. I don’t understand it. I don’t want to. I don’t want to even pretend I want to. To me, it just looks boring and drawn out and like an ineffective marketing campaign for wearing zinc. I realise there are many people who LOVE cricket, particularly eligible young men, and that’s fine with me. As long as no one expects me to watch cricket. Ever.

Ironically, one of my favourite pubs in the inner city is the Cricketers Arms in Surry Hills. I was mapping there on Saturday night and I can tell you ladies, if you want to be in the minority, go there. I think I was one of maybe six women in a pub filled with men. So thank you to all the great guys I met on Saturday night. You were all very entertaining and helpful. I really felt like I was the guest of honour at your happy little local. 🙂