I remember a good friend who thought he would join one of those introduction schemes in order to meet a nice and good woman. This was many years ago when meeting someone was still done in real life. Today this is done by the push of a mouse or keyboard in solitary confinement in front of a screen. Women advertise on line in various modes of (un)dress and men inside various vehicles or even behind maritime vessel’s steering wheels. I have yet to see a man in those romantic love advertisements photographed behind a book or hewing away at a piece of marble, or playing outdoor chess. Art is out and rugged maleness is in.
Even so, there seems to be an almost insatiable need for couples still to meet. If you go to ‘face book’ (please note I don’t abbreviate it into FB and I hate the assumption of so many IT people abbreviating everything in a couple of letters) one can’t escape numerously languid looking females enticing the FB fan to meet up.
One advertisement stated Natasha wants ‘B Bs only.
Well, I am more of a T S E boy, so, Natasha can cut me out.
The ads are overwhelmingly by girls with breasts generously splayed over the edges and males splaying over their steering wheels of expensive cars or leaning casually against a yacht.
Anyway, all those many years ago, this good friend of mine, his name was Otto, did the right thing and joined a group of similar minded people wanting to meet others through this introduction agency. A ferry was hired and all would get aboard and each would bring food and drinks. I wasn’t there, but I suppose even before boarding, people would have already been coyly scanning each other on the quay side. There is always so much hope invested in meeting the right one, isn’t it?
Otto told me he had bought a small piece of raw steak and a large bottle of Fanta orange drink. He wasn’t fond of alcohol. I thought he could have packed something a bit more romantic for on the ferry, but that was Otto. He was deadly honest in dealing with people which often came out either hilariously funny or somewhat clumsy. Otto was a good man, and as stated before, he wanted a good woman.
I was curious how it all went. Oh, he said,” it was terribly boring and the worst was I could not get off the bloody ferry.” Yes, but did you meet any nice ladies, I asked? Oh, not too many. I went and offered bits of my steak around, but no one wanted any. They were all eating cubes of cheese and gherkins with ham around it and sipping Cold Duck Champagne. One man had brought a complete chicken in a basket with bread-rolls. No one brought steaks! The chicken in the basket man, ended up with a nice lady and towards the end they were kissing.
Otto remained a bachelor his whole life. He did never seem to meet a ‘nice’ partner, someone who could see past his rather practical and utterly unromantic demeanor. I suppose we all dream of the unattainable, the sexiest, the utterly devastatingly masculine, the supine languidly feminine, the ultimate Eve and apple giver. I reckon, personally, the long lasting relationships are those made in the kitchen of ‘give and take’ with the mortar and pestle of love, grinding it all together into a most delicious and enduring everlasting paste of togetherness. Eternally cooing pigeons springs to mind but that is perhaps overstating it a bit… The readers on this blog are not into purple prose.
The ones wanting the unobtainable and unattainable love potions prove themselves right each time, hence the incursion and flooding of all those ‘meet the right partner’ ads on FB and so many other IT pages.
What do you think?
B B= Big Boys
T S E= Thomas S Eliot
Tags: Cold duck Champagne, Eve, Face Book, Love boat, Mortar and Pestle, Natasha
Posted in Gerard Oosterman |