Men Are Pawns, Women Are Queens. (2007)
They say it takes two to tango, and you can’t make an omelette without breaking a few eggs – but the truth is, if you’re lonely, and you’ve drunk too much Stone’s green ginger, it’s not that hard to put on Amelie with the picture down and dance yourself into oblivion, clumsily removing pieces of dignity like a human Jenga. Also, if one Googles ‘egg free omelette’ they’ll find a number of potentially hideous, but unquestionably practical ways to keep chickens right the hell out of it. My point being that the same applies to guys and girls getting together – and in a way, Rod Stewart and Tina Turner were ill-informed in saying “it takes two,” when in fact, I believe when it comes to getting the party started – it should really only take one – the guy.
Now, I don’t usually put on my ‘potentially misogynistic suggestion of gender inequality’ pants for less than a grand, but I’m passionate about the subject, and Centrelink gave me a bonus for not biting my nails this week. In my vastish experience, (vastish…ladies?) I have determined that like the DeLorean must be travelling at 88mph to safely travel through time, a guy should be travelling at roughly 88 thoughts per second by the time he musters the gusto to ask for the number of a prospective lass. What is important here is that the guy, who is for example, off the top of my head, massively introverted and painfully awkward about himself, is able to experience the dodgem car thrill of potential rejection, and earns the surge of gratification from the action to restore his famished stocks of perceived ‘manliness’ that he has derived from society, pop culture, and his social peers over the years.
Yes, the guy needs to make the first move. This may not necessarily come in the form of asking for a number, but be as simple as an ice breaker at a social event, an invitation to a connotation free occasion, or a genuine, heartfelt, open flyed leer on the 86 tram.
If the girl ends up making the first move, it throws the man’s kinetic energy into a tailspin of counter-cultural woe. Sure, he’s excited that someone’s taking an interest, but feels an instant sense of guilt that he didn’t approach them first, and a fear that they’re always going to be subconsciously disappointed in him. He might even think the girl’s just taking pity on him for being so clearly trapped inside his well dressed shell of inaction, or perhaps adopt a loner arrogance, questioning why the girl wasn’t already involved with another guy in the first place. What is he? The encouragement award? And before you know it he’s plummeted behind a wall of confused father-based anger, tearing up the mental Mcdonalds voucher and showbag.
Girls need the guy to make the first move. I will wear nothing but speedos and a surf club cap and parade around Bourke st mall with a megaphone defending my words, and encouraging readers to shop between the flags, for I truly believe this. I don’t care how many feminism-brits you eat for breakfast, or how many episodes of secret housewife of us in bridget’s desperate city sex diary you’ve watched – part of you still incubates the little girl dream of being swept off your feet by a charming man with strong shoulders who is mainly Patrick Swayze in Ghost. In every woman there lies a part of the P.J. Harvey meets Punky Brewster: ‘I am an enchanting complicated she-treasure who deserves to be impressed by this pale, lanky, plain clothed species I have learnt to depend upon and be disappointed by over the years.’
In almost all cases, most notably not in salaries and executive positions, men and women are pretty equal – and in all other facets to a healthy loving relationship, this should be the case as well. Yet there is something about the Shakespearean chivalry of a door being held, first drink being paid for, and initial text being written, that can feel casually harmonious when it’s the guy ‘buying the tickets to Shrek,’ and yes, that is a euphemism. Having said that, some girls like making the first move, and hey, there’s heaps of egg omelette recipes on google and an authorised tango instructor has already refuted my earlier claims.