Essay

The course of true love

By Sam Lowry

Picture a room. In this room there are about 40 middle-aged men. They sit hunched and silent and joyless. The air itself seems heavy, the surroundings drained of all color. In front of the assembled crowd stands a woman. Dressed in bright pink, she holds a microphone and speaks in a voice that's so cheerful you know she is, deep down, very unhappy.

It's a seminar for men looking for their "special someone," and I'm sitting in the second row. Perhaps I should explain: a fax arrived at work a week earlier. "Become a man who women would want to meet a second time!" it screamed. "Media welcome." It was irresistible.

So there I am, feeling very embarrassed and hoping I'm not blending in too much. The teacher - the woman in pink - is midway through her first point: "You may think that the most important thing on your first date is for the woman to like you. You're wrong. The most important thing is for the woman not to dislike you." In other words: because you aren't attractive, the best chance you'll have with a woman on your first date is that she'll endure you.

"It's what's inside that counts," she continues. "Show her your strong points, have confidence in yourself, convince her that you're a responsible adult and that you're attentive and it'll definitely lead to a second date." For the next half an hour, she talks about grooming. What happened to what's inside?

Then: "Nose hair!" she says dramatically. I choke. My mind has been drifting. "You may not notice it yourself but women are generally shorter and the last thing they want to see when they look up into your face is great bushes of hair sprouting from your nostrils." The audience nods sagely. Some take notes. "But women never tell you," says one man. "That's what's terrifying." The teacher looks sympathetic. "Nose hair clippers," she says. "Get a pair."

There follows a long list of things you shouldn't wear on a first date: piercings, rings, backpacks, underarm bags ("I'm extremely sorry," says one man, meekly raising his hand. "I seem to have brought one with me."). Also, sneakers, flannel checks, too-tight clothes, and leather ("If you want to wear long leather boots," says the woman gravely, "wear them only after a couple of dates."). Finally, she says: "Remember, you're not Odagiri Joe. Dress normally, and look clean." I giggle. Alone.

"Women think of first dates like they're interviews," the woman continues. "They're looking for someone to look after them, a gentleman, someone who's normal, ordinary, who doesn't do or say anything strange, who obviously tries hard to please them." If I were a woman I'd find that incredibly boring. Moreover, I thought the worst sin of a first date was looking like you were trying too hard.

"And if it doesn't go well, if you get turned down once, twice, 10 times, 20 times, 50 times, 100 times, don't be discouraged. There's a woman out there who's looking just as desperately as you. And if you do despair, just find some happy couples and spend some time with them. That way it will keep your motivation going strong." Motivation? Bitterness, resentment, envy and despair, I'm sure, but not motivation.

"And finally, remember to smile. And practice those smiles. Women do it all the time, so why not you? Get a mirror and practice raising the corners of your mouth until it becomes natural. We can try it now." It's difficult to describe what happened next. The sight of 40 men trying to smile is a sight that I will take to the grave with me. Some scars - like great loves - are forever.

Shukan ST: Feb. 17, 2006

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