Thursday, June 18, 2009
Over drinks, a successful but unattractive man whined to his friends about his girl troubles. Why was he unable to meet a nice woman? His friends all knew that “nice woman” meant “hot piece of ass,” so after tip-toeing around the subject for about three rounds, one of the friends took a more direct approach.
“Let me see,” she began. “How can I explain this? Fives go with Fives, and Nines go with Nines.” Realizing he was not the Nine in this equation, the successful, unattractive, embarrassed man promptly changed the subject.
Last week, I was stood up by someone completely unexpected. I have known him for years, yet never looked at him as dating potential. Recently, as he became more flirtatious, I began looking at him in a different light … a dating light. He is the right age, educated, funny, good body: a solid Seven. In all, a suitable suitor, so I agreed to meet for drinks that Friday.
When I had not heard from him by 8 o’clock, I texted. He responded three hours later, without apology, that he was out with friends. Although disappointed, I dismissed the incident as an unintentional act of rudeness … until I heard from him Sunday night.
After a great date with a guy he actually liked, he apparently felt the need to share. When he felt the right moment with Mister Right, he leaned in for a kiss. I was pleased to learn his date dodged the clumsy assertion, dashing towards the exit.
A warm tingly sense of satisfaction had just set in when he declared, “Dating is hopeless!” He opted to concede to being undatable and to accept ending up miserable and alone … like me!
What happened? How had I gone from pseudo-potential date to man-who-will-inevitably-die-alone? In a matter of moments, this person, whom until recently I had no interest in, managed to corroborate my worst fears and make me question my personal ranking.
If it’s true that Fives go with Fives and Nines go with Nines, how do we know how we add up?
I began thinking about this scoring system. Can my ranking improve? Do I keep score the same way as the guys I like? The math does get difficult in a culture where controlling behavior and emotional baggage may cost you one point, but a weak chin can drop you three.
Perhaps an anonymous ballot box would help: strangers drop in scorecards, rating us on a scale of 1 to 10, and perhaps including a few helpful suggestions to get our numbers up. With a decent enough sampling, I feel I could get a good grasp on reality. Unfortunately, that exposes the possibility that, after years of accepting myself as a Seven, I may learn the world at large sees me as a Four.
Would the secrets of strangers boost confidence, or shatter fragile egos?
The repercussions of basing my personal value on assumed opinions of silent strangers are dire. After all, if our numbers are proportionate to the ranking of the person we date, what does that say for the single guy? If I’m a Seven, minus another Seven, doesn’t that equal a Zero?
After much over-analysis, the scoring system made my head spin, so in the end, I have opted for simpler math: after eight beers, everyone is a Ten.
By: Alan Phillips
Category: Cheaper Than Therapy