Sunday, 29 January 2012

When did a kiss become a handshake?

I've woken up with a hangover and my first thought is "I must belong to the wrong era. I must be a Victorian by accident." Actually my first thought was "OH FUCK!" but I thought the first one fitted in more neatly with the title. There must have been a recent meeting that I forgot to attend where all affection was downgraded. When I was growing up, here was my understanding:

Handshake = Formal greeting
Hug = Close family member greeting
Kiss = Someone you fancy greeting
Sex = Multi-dimensional handshake signalling huge attraction.

At this meeting, there must have been a decision to remove any kind of meaning associated with displays of affection, to downgrade feeling. This has around for a little while of course. These days, you hug everybody: Friends, Acquaintances, Jehovah's Witnesses, Escaped convicts. Leaving a party requires a huge hour-long hug session with toilet breaks and refreshments served intermittently. What I didn't realise was that this would automatically devalue all other categories.

Handshake = I hate you. Do you have smallpox?
Hug = Formal greeting
Kiss = Friendly
Sex = Mild attraction.

I'm not ready for any of this. I am a tiny fool. I have this insane, naive, laughable idea that if you give someone a proper snog, it means you fancy them/ maybe would be conducive to go out with them. I thought that this was how things worked. I'm sure that was how things worked. Sure, things have come on since, say, 1912, when things were more like.

Handshake = Friendly greeting
Hug = Passionate engagement embrace.
Kiss = Post-wedding deal breaker
Sex = Child production

But I'm still under the Stone Age misconception that a kiss means you are attracted to someone. If you kiss someone on multiple occasions that means you're definitely attracted to someone. Are you with me so far? If you are, then here is the news: it apparently means absolutely nothing.

I'm not that used to being rejected. This isn't because I'm girl-bait, it's just that I don't put myself in that position very often. The sentiment these days is very much a carpe diem, nothing to lose mindset, but I strongly disagree. You have everything to lose: your sanity, your self-respect, the last remaining barriers of dignity before the gathering army of self-loathing goes stomping around your cranium. Better to have something as an uninvestigated possibility rather than another permanently closed dual carriageway in your life. Better to live with yourself and without someone else. There's nothing worse than realising your own deep-seated scepticism is entirely accurate. This is the creed of survival. It's not particularly appealing and means that you do spend too much time celibate and alone, but at least you're not planning to redecorate the front room in your own brains. Well, not always.

After the tyranny of the flirts, I thought I had found myself someone proper. It's not that I'd already picked out a vicar, it's just that they seemed like a person I could have a nice time with. There seemed to be mutual attraction, we'd met up every so often, got on very well and there had been a few kisses. After one such kiss, I asked.

"Would it be nice if we went on a more datey-type thing?"
"Errrr...I'm not sure."
"Sorry. I should have been a bit more direct. Would you like to go on a date?"
"I don't think so."

And that's it. I had to change the subject pretty quickly.  

"That music was good though, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, it was great."
"Seriously. Do I stink of shit?"

Obviously the last bit line didn't happen. That would be an example of me seizing the day. Actually what I said was worse. I think it was along the lines of:

"Well, dates are hugely embarrassing, aren't they?"

Which was not altogether cryptic code for "This is hugely, hugely embarrassing."

Girls I like go out with men who they later regret having gone out with. Why can't I be one of their regrets? The problem with girls in general is that they find confidence very, very attractive. The more blustering, steaming, bullshitty, psychopathic levels of confidence you have the better. You basically have to be a monster to be successful with women. And it works. In business, relationships, at garden centres - bullshitters win. We reward these people with everything. We are building a meritocracy of wankers. An arseholeocracy.

Paul Daniels has slept with thousands of women. Paul Daniels.

I know a guy who is always drunk, pulls his penis out on every occasion, has absolutely no scruples, and is staggeringly selfish. Result? Is he regularly put in the stocks and pelted with rotten gooseburies? Are there songs sang about his infamy? Are young children frightened into compliance through tales of his crimes? Nope. He is absolutely swimming in girls. Nobody I know hasn't slept with him. And what is his secret? A sand dune of all-encompassing, blitzkrieg-like conviction and a decent pair of shoulders. Even when he's sick on himself, he does it with a defiant swagger which says to drroling girls: "Try and change me, babe".

To stop my teenage griping from going any further, I will simply make a suggestion to the apparently more intelligent, emotionally sophisticated female sex. If you do plan to kiss me, and I welcome all applications, please mumble the following disclaimer.

"This kiss is purely for novelty reasons. It doesn't entitle the receiver to any hopes, desires, affection or any further exploration. It may well happen again, but is unconnected to any feelings, sentiment or emotion. If you're not entirely happy with this arrangement, then tough shit. Get a total disregard for other people and a pair of shoulders, loser."

But maybe I'm just being childish. Maybe I should be more of a man about these things. Maybe I can ignore reality and just become baselessly positive about everything. Maybe I need to start being a winner. I'm off to a BMW dealership. It's about time I ran over some orphans. Girls love that!

Of course, it would have been worse if she'd just shrugged her shoulders and said "Okay, let's go on a date" because then I would have tricked into feeling temporarily happy, only to find out that 'dates' have been downgraded to the same status as teleconferences.

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