For today’s post, I am indebted, once again, to Kate of Kate Ferguson Writes. She’s an English teacher and even though we’ve never met, her comments always make me pause and say “Hmmm… I hadn’t thought of that!”
In responding to my post about this year’s Black Friday Martini Bar Soiree (for which I was dateless once again), Kate suggested “Perhaps The Wedding Date’s aloofness and contact with his ex lady friend will give him some of the hot and cold appeal possessed by Date #7?”
For those of your just tuning in, I’m aware that this requires a bit of contextualization, so here’s the Reader’s Digest version: The Wedding Date is a man I met at a wedding back in July; he was the date of someone else (a friend of my former babysitter, to be exact) but that didn’t stop me from asking him to dance. Nor did it stop him from eventually finding me on Facebook and asking me out. Date #7, by contrast, is a man I met online just over a year ago; we finally met in the flesh back in June and since then it’s been a complete and utter roller coaster.
I’ve already discussed the allure of the “bad boy” but now I’m wondering about this “hot and cold appeal.” What is it that makes aloofness so damn attractive?
I like to consider myself at least marginally intelligent; I have a Masters degree, I’ve travelled, I’m gainfully employed and I’m entrusted with the teaching of children ranging in age from 3 to 18. Clearly I have a few brain cells still intact.
And yet I still put up with (and perhaps even prefer) the “hold and cold appeal” of men like Date #7, even when I’ve been fortunate enough to go out with men like The Wedding Date—men who have been nothing but considerate, upfront and affectionate towards me.
Over the Thanksgiving holiday, my brother made some sort of inane comment that caused my mother to throw down whatever she was holding in despair (a dishtowel? A martini? Who knows…) and exclaim, “He’s never going to get married. Who would put up with him?”
I don’t remember what the comment was—my brother makes lot of inane comments so it’s hard to keep track— but I do remember my response:
Someone will put up with him, Mom. Girls will put up with just about anything. Look at me.
“I guess,” she shrugged. “You’re still putting up with well, you know…”
I don’t come from a broken home. I wasn’t abused as a child. I have a reasonable amount of self esteem (for a dancer at least), I’m not suffering from any sort of major physical or emotional problems, and I know (from having spent several months watching daytime television when I first moved home from London and was too depressed to do anything else) that these are the reasons that most women fall into abusive relationships.
Not that my relationship (or lack thereof) with Date #7 is abusive—far from—but nor is it the sort of relationship that I have with The Wedding Date.
So what gives? Is it the thrill of the chase? The need for a little drama every now and then? Or maybe it all boils down to the knowledge that what you desire is in fact desired by somebody else, just like a neglected chew toy that will lay forgotten under a couch for months collecting dust, until one dog decides he wants it— only then does the other decide she must snatch it away.
- Two Men, One Martini Bar (katrichterwrites.wordpress.com)
- Hiking, The Wedding Date and My Mother, the Fortune Teller (katrichterwrites.wordpress.com)
- The Rest of the Story with Date #7 (katrichterwrites.wordpress.com)