As I have pointed out before, I am a cynic.
Thus last week when one of my male friends came up to me and said he had a date for Thursday (today) certainly I was happy for him, but my first question was;
"What do you think the chances are she'll show?"
I asked this not because I am cynical, but because this friend of mine is not some old, battle-hardened, seasoned veteran of the Courtship Wars, but rather a youthful 26 year old kid who still has that glimmer of hope in his eyes. Who still has that optimistic choo-choo that could mentality. Who watches a lot of movies and still believes in the tooth fairy and Santa Claus. And worse still, he believes that when a woman says yes to a date, that means he's actually going out on it.
I just wanted to prepare him for what I inevitably saw happening; "The Worst."
"The Worst" is not something that can happen to an old cynic like you or me. But it can happen to kids out there that are so young, youthful and idealistic they still get that "giddy" feeling. Remember that feeling from LOOONG ago? Like when you finally asked Suzie Johnson out in biology and she said yes? Why you were on cloud nine for the rest of the week. Brimming at the edge with anticipation and excitement of the upcoming date.
Yeah, well scratch that, for that "giddy" feeling has been pummeled out of us. For after countless last minute cancelltions, family emergencies, and well, just out right stand ups, us experienced folk never take it for granted that we're actually going on the date.
Sadly, the same cannot be said for these young, idealistic kids.
Thus "The Worst" isn't when old farts like you or me get cancelled on at the last minute. Heck no, most of us even prepare for it, having a back up date/plans in reserve. "The Worst" is when some young innocent kid with romantic notions of chivalry and kindness rockets to Cloud #9 on 100% Giddy Up n' Go Fuel, and then plummets back to Earth at the speed of sound when the girl cancels at the last minute.
Flower in hand, tickets in pocket, a droopy look on his face. The poor kid didn't see it coming.
Which is why I was so blunt and cynical, for I did not want my young friend to suffer such a fall.
Of course not everybody shared my views. For last night, T-24 hours to the date, we were all having dinner with some friends. One of which was a female friend who watched even MORE movies than the other guy and even believed in things like Leprechauns, the UN, and social security.
And when my young friend said,
"I don't know about my date tomorrow, I'm getting the feeling she's gonna bail"
She said,
"No, she wouldn't cancel on you. She'll show up"
That's when my capitalistic Spidey Senses started tingling, for I knew there was profit to be had.
"I'll bet you $20 she bails."
Being nice and brainwashed by watching too many G-rated movies the girl practically jumped across the living room to accept my wager and shake my hand.
"I'll take that $20!" she said confidently enough that I was somewhat worried my Spidey Senses had failed me.
I looked to my friend and asked,
"Is she American?"
"Yes."
"Brought up in America?"
"Yes."
"You're so on! $20 it is."
Fast forward 22 hours later and I get a call. A call from my young friend.
"You were right, she bailed."
Ahhh, the sweet joys of victory. Almost worth more than the $20 I'm going to collect. You can always rely on the American woman to act in a manner that does not warrant chivalry nor respect.
But having said that and being totally honest, I wish I didn't have to collect that $20. It certainly would be worth $20 for my young friend to be happy, to go on a date, and eliminate the need to be so cynical. It would certainly be worth the $20 to eliminate the cynicism and replace it with that good ol' fashion giddy feeling we used to get when we were young. It certainly would be worth $20 for American women to act in a manner that would warrant chivalry and respect.
Alas, that is wishful thinking on the order of thinking Santa Claus will bring me a Bloomberg Terminal and my own personal F-16 fighter plane this upcoming Christmas.
But there is hope. Hope that came from out of nowhere and from a sector I wasn't expecting. For you may have noticed my insistence on using the adjective "American" in the term "American woman."
Alas, it is more than manual labor that can be outsourced and cultural diversity isn't necessarily a bad thing I'm finding out.
I must thank Doinkicarus.
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