Home' Scoop : Scoop 54 Summer 2010 Contents 242 SCOOP SUMMER 2010
AND another thing
SVP. Those very letters sent my eyes rolling back into my
head only six months back. But, four weeks ag o, on a barstool
at The Stanley, reality smacked me out of my single-loving life
and into a fer vour for coupledom. “So, how long has it been
since you’ve been in a serious relationship?” First response?
Indignant eyes. Who was this man asking me such a personal question? However,
he was somewhat of a friend. So, I forgave and indulg ed. Then it dawned.
Five years. I was 36, divorced and, according to a close friend, beginning to
adopt the mannerisms of my two cats – a sure sign of a spinster-in-the-making.
It doesn’t take a medical degree to understand that my ovaries aren’t getting
any younger either. My Champagne-loving ways have ensured I can’t fund my
long-held ambition to be a single mother (I don’t have Madonna’s bank account),
although there is always the option of a turkey baster and a g ood male friend.
My great-aunt on my father’s side was a spinster until she died. No husband.
No children. There was, however, talk of a lover during the war. She was many
wonderful things and taught me all about embroidery and card games, such
as Solitude (an indulgence I love to this day). However, she was also rather
intolerant, slightly edgy and quite demanding. Pause for personal reflection.
I consulted my aunt in Byron Bay (she is also single, but doesn’t own a cat).
I’m told she knows of people who have clicked on to RSVP and had some
success. Horror. As a typical Leo who expects people to fall at my feet at a
mere glance, that isn’t an option. But the thought was planted. I fished around. It
seems many of the people I mix with (most also single) are on and off the site.
“Yeah, everyone does it,” says one. Really? “Oh, yes, I had three days of dates
for breakfast, lunch and dinner.” I love dining out. I’m sold.
Profile. Now, this is a tricky one. I feel one way on one day, and another
way on another day. How to sum this up? I love five-star experiences, but also love to
get back to natur e, but not too much back to natur e. Think Sal Salis, rather than a swag
and a spade. I love staying home and enjoy buying new fabrics for my house (at the moment
I love my Goat Girl 1 and 2 rugs), so I am mor e of a natural-fibre girl than a man-made
convert. However, I also love going out and enjoying myself at r estaurants and bars. I don’t
do New Zealand sauvignon blancs, rather French-style ones and I love a Clare Valley riesling.
Food needs to be made with integrity and the more pr ovenance thrown at it the better. I love
tr ying new places, but have my favourite haunts, particularly a certain one on a beach. And,
speaking of the beach, I never want to live away from the sound of waves r ocking me to
sleep again. Sports? Well, I used to play tennis and swim, but these days it’s mor e about
walking and riding my 1940’s-style bike. If talking wer e a sport, I’d be incr edibly fit.
Done. Now, what am I looking for? Sheesh, if I knew that, surely I wo uldn’t
be on here? Keep it simple. Confident, kind, fun but serious, and loves a laugh. Too
easy. Photo? Hidden. One must retain some control.
First ‘kiss’ ar rives (the ‘contact’, or email, from a fellow RSVPer). I dive for
cover. Then call my aunt. Discuss man in my inbox. He saw a new person on
RSVP, I saw a potential life trap and someone who could take away everything
I hold dear. DELETE. Reality? Previous relationship issues not resolved.
Over the ensuing three weeks, RSVP becomes my psychologist. Together, we
digest profiles and work through issues built up over two engagements, one
marriage, a divorce and countless other failed relationships (which my aunt
and mother still bring up for a laugh). I discover I am judgmental, a complete
commitment-phobe (anyone ‘serious about a long-term relationship’ was
immediately deleted after a swift ‘No, thanks’) and clearly not emotionally fit
to enter into a love affair. However, the offerings weren’t all that hot either.
Kiss One. I reply without thinking – just testing the water. Response: ‘What
do you do for fun?’ Strange. I Google. Not only do I find this person on a
pro-gaming website, but also, with further Googling, there he is – a Whip Boy
on collarme.com. Turns out it is a BDSM website – in fact, ‘the largest on the
planet’. BLOCK CONTACT. I grew up on a farm and with the threat of a
cattle whip when I was a ‘bad girl’, I didn’t need to take that into my adult life.
Kiss Two. Back and forth banter. Send through my photograph. Response:
INACTIVE PROFILE. Now, I’d actually dropped my standards just to g et in
banter practice. This was a low blow. My photo had been taken one year prior
when I was 10kg lighter. I wasn’t looking that bad. In fact, the word ‘hot’ popped
into mind as I was posting it. My eg o took a beating, I contracted a virus.
“It’s a numbers g ame,” says a friend over the phone who had RSVPed
previously. “Don’t take it personally. I met someone at a cafe and they left
before I had finished my coffee. It was demoralising.” However, sofa-bound due
to said virus, with my cats and my favourite NCIS and Fr a s i e r episodes in the
background, I ‘Kiss-ed’ like there was no tomorrow. Even a friend got in on the
act. Numbers g ame? I was g oing to win. It had become as addictive as Ebay.
The upshot? Three dates. Two were lovely, one was just plain weird. However,
now RSVP-free and back to my single-loving ways, I have come out with a new,
reinvigorated outlook. Single life is a g ood life. The turkey baster is on hold –
I’ve seen mothers my age in cafes dealing with psychosis-inducing babble from
unpredictable tots. Company? I entertain myself constantly – no-one is funnier
than the person in your own head. And that person on the stool in The Stanley?
Thanks for the journey. It was enlightenting, revealing and, above all, a big
laugh (once I got over the photo incident). INACTIVE PROFILE. S
Single? Fabulous? Considering RSVP?
Pearl Simson takes her chances online
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