Archive → December, 2009
How to get dumped and remain single for 12 months.
One Febrary 10th I was unceremoniously dumped – further details don’t really matter. My life a confusing shambles, I got through the obligatory angry drinking stage and decided to get proactive and ‘find myself’. What I did not intend on doing was finding myself for the next fucking calendar year. This discovery circa February 10th 2009, on the previously documented Melbourne Student Media Conference, may have had something to do with my wholesale drunken belligerence and skyrocketing credit card bill. I had to ask myself “how the hell did I manage to cock up the best part of a year as a reasonably handsome, educated, charming and (very) single young male?”
Choosing a Mate: The first step, and probably the most crucial. For some reason, no matter how interesting and well–adjusted they appear when I meet them, I usually find that I have begun courting a girl whose psychological state ranges from to quirkily anxious to downright sociopathic and/or psychotic. Equally so, if you’re the sort of person who enjoys getting drunk to the point of blacking out and waking up wearing a woman’s fashion scarf with makeup smeared on your face, you probably shouldn’t go for religious and/or uptight sorts, unable to quote-unquote “take a cock in the face”.
Picking your battlefield: Location, location, location. There are excellent places to meet and take girls. I have as yet to find these.
Places not to try and pick up girls –
(i) Handing up an essay at 8am: most uni types aren’t mentally prepared for navigating public transport, let alone a clumsy breakfast-courting attempt. Warning: victim may run for nearest emergency exit.
(ii) Boarding public transport: you always want to have yourself a clear escape route for when it all goers pear-shaped, but a rapidly approach and hence departing bus piloted by a surly public servant is not a suitable choice. Nothing melts a girl’s heart like yelling dinner plans from closing hydraulic doors.
(iii) Foreign backpacker dorms: probably the best and worst place to pickup. On the one hand you have the ‘what happens on tour, stays on tour’ ethos to help lower some otherwise prohibitive standards, an environment which encourages public communal binge drinking and ready access to a boudoir. Somewhat negatively, a half dozen other cock-blocking denizens usually inhabit said boudoir, snoring, farting and using intrusively bright reading lights.
I really need to hang out in more cafes, bookshops and vintage shops.
Clear and Present Danger: Now in the thick of the dating game, having found a potential date in a less-than-suitable location the social minefield only grows more dense. Girls will often give subtle hints ranging from body language to off-the-cuff comments. I do not notice these. A direct statement of intent would be good. Written notification would be better. It pays to try and take notice of these subtle messages. Some girls have ex issues. Like being in the middle of a divorce. No, you cannot wait until proceedings are completed. The same goes for those with newly broken hearts and/or recently deceased relatives. Eyes wide-open guys, it’ll save you a lot of confused heartache.
The Getaway: By now, things have gone beyond pear-shaped and are deep in SNAFU territory. You are now staring down the barrel of rejection. If you are lucky, and haven’t perpetrated any of the above crimes, you will probably be given a polite “it’s not you, it’s me” or “I’m not really ready for a relationship”. Worse case scenarios include “it’s not me… it’s you”, abject laughter and “I’m carrying mace”. I joke. Don’t try and palm your fumbled romantic lunge as a joke, you’ll come off looking a fool. Why not try cementing your position, you’ve already been denied, what have you got to lose? It’s pretty clear dignity was left way back in paragraph three. If all’s fair in love and war then fight a battle of attrition. Chances are her pool of friends will be equally poisoned like a Crimean War town well, so let that one go too. Best bet now is to shrug, give a defeated nod and stride on into the distance. Don’t look back, either you’ll be turned into a pillar of salt, or worse, you’ll have to see her laughing on her mobile to her bestie.
Reading back over this article, I have to admit there are some glaring flaws in my dating technique. While I no doubt will be taking a dose of my own medicine and doing a rather drastic reappraisal of my tete-á-tete, I regret nothing.
In the words of Maxwell Scott, “When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.”