We all know the story. Hero, on his trusty steed, gallops toward the castle. The tower is guarded by dragons, a moat, possibly an enchanted spell or two. The reason he is boldly (some might say recklessly) charging into danger is his one true love, the Princess, who is currently trapped in a dungeon by order of her evil step-parent/paranoid tyrant/malevolent warlock. Our shining knight smites the foes, rescues the princess, and happily ever after we close the book.
In recent decades, this tale has morphed into the classic Nora Ephron Romantic Comedy. Guy meets girl. Due to misunderstandings or professional rivalries, they can't be together. And just when he's about to accept love into his life, the dragon-infested castle emerges at the end of act two. Ten minutes of indecision later, our Hero, now understanding that he is, in fact, capable of a relationship, finally rescues the Princess thanks to a grand romantic gesture...only it turns out that she is actually rescuing him. Roll credits.
The RomCom is often derided as a fairy tale, asking the audience to ignore contrivance in order to enjoy a love story about overcoming odds, adversity, and our own prejudices. The key logical problem to overlook isn't the abundant coincidences: rather, it's the steady stream of love interests for unlikeable men.
No matter how petty or obnoxious or damaged, these characters never seem to have any trouble meeting women who want to spend an evening with them. All of your neurotic, standoffish, sarcastic, anti-social heroes (Woody Allen, John Cusack, Billy Crystal, George Costanza) are never single for extended periods of time. No, that would only distract from the real obstacles: she works for a rival publishing outfit or he used to date her roommate and there are some residual bad feelings (or, in a second act twist, romantic feelings), etc.
Granted, life isn't fiction. Walter Mitty taught us that escapism only exists in our fantasies and Mindy Kaling (both the character and the human being) is predicated on the stunning revelation that your twenties don't operate under the same rules as a Nancy Meyers movie.
Yet there is still truth in these films. Modern relationships are based on many Cusackian problems: crises of conscience, chasing after the wrong person, knowing when to make compromises and when to follow your gut and bolt.
And at this point in my life, getting to the stage where I'm confronted with these dilemmas is a dragon-infested castle in and of itself.
I have been Damsel-less for a while now. Los Angeles is not a wasteland for dating. With the normal assortment of bars, farmers markets, Tinder, Runyon Canyon, Trader Joe's, dog parks, LinkedIn, etc., you can meet women, Over the past four months, I managed to get the numbers of three women. And before dialing each, I anticipated LA relationship problems in the arena of: She's more prolific on Twitter than me, a love triangle with another writer, I learn details about her from watching YouTube clips of her stand-up as opposed to hearing it from her firsthand, or she blogs about our dates (or vice versa, apparently).
The results were as follows:
#1
Left a message, asking her out.
Never heard back.
#2
Made a date.
I had to cancel. We made plans for next week.
I called to confirm, left a message.
Never heard back.
#3
Made plans.
She cancelled the day of, due to work-induced exhaustion.
Days later, she calls and apologizes for not getting back sooner. We circle a date the next week.
I call to confirm.
Never heard back.
DISCLAIMER #1: I didn't leave rambling, sprawling, Nikki messages. I didn't stutter, ramble, digress, or call her by the wrong name. Didn't call her "Baby" or make off-color jokes about Gaza. Just your generic, slightly self-deprecating voicemail.
DISCLAIMER #2: There is an implied "Psyched myself up by McConaugheyly thumping my chest" before every "Left a message."
Losing interest. Schedules that don't overlap. Geographic undesirability. Her decision that "she just doesn't have the time to devote to dating." These are my "We have to pretend to be a couple for the next week" or "We have to keep our relationship a secret from our families" or "I might actually be in love with her sister" problems. The dreaded "Where is this relationship going?" conversation consists of waiting days for a reply, then overanalyzing whether a text message "I'm sorry" is sincere or sarcastic.
Watching Ashton Kutcher meander through the murky waters of "Do I like this girl...or do I love her?" is like listening to a friend whine about office problems while you're on unemployment. Instead of complaining about actual relationship problems, here I am, complaining that I can't find a date. I had always hoped for more conflict during these romantic down times. Although, much like the movies, there are plenty of moments of self-doubt, typically set to "How Soon is Now?"
Still clinging to the idea that life works like fiction and hoping that there is some sort of structure that governs events, I've decided that either I'm in pre-Act One of a romantic comedy, waiting for the story to start, or perhaps I'm at the second act break, realizing that I have to make a serious change in order to find my dream girl.
I'm beginning to think that maybe we've been looking at the wrong genre as a basis for our love lives. The great love story of our time isn't a coincidental Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan meet cute, it's an Indiana Jones treasure hunting quest where we have to track and locate the hidden castle before we can scale it. Because right now, it feels like finding the challenge is the real obstacle.
So, I'll end this by processing life in the only way I know how: by quoting Cameron Crowe.
"I want to get hurt." -Lloyd Dobler
-30-
***********
In recent decades, this tale has morphed into the classic Nora Ephron Romantic Comedy. Guy meets girl. Due to misunderstandings or professional rivalries, they can't be together. And just when he's about to accept love into his life, the dragon-infested castle emerges at the end of act two. Ten minutes of indecision later, our Hero, now understanding that he is, in fact, capable of a relationship, finally rescues the Princess thanks to a grand romantic gesture...only it turns out that she is actually rescuing him. Roll credits.
The RomCom is often derided as a fairy tale, asking the audience to ignore contrivance in order to enjoy a love story about overcoming odds, adversity, and our own prejudices. The key logical problem to overlook isn't the abundant coincidences: rather, it's the steady stream of love interests for unlikeable men.
No matter how petty or obnoxious or damaged, these characters never seem to have any trouble meeting women who want to spend an evening with them. All of your neurotic, standoffish, sarcastic, anti-social heroes (Woody Allen, John Cusack, Billy Crystal, George Costanza) are never single for extended periods of time. No, that would only distract from the real obstacles: she works for a rival publishing outfit or he used to date her roommate and there are some residual bad feelings (or, in a second act twist, romantic feelings), etc.
Granted, life isn't fiction. Walter Mitty taught us that escapism only exists in our fantasies and Mindy Kaling (both the character and the human being) is predicated on the stunning revelation that your twenties don't operate under the same rules as a Nancy Meyers movie.
Yet there is still truth in these films. Modern relationships are based on many Cusackian problems: crises of conscience, chasing after the wrong person, knowing when to make compromises and when to follow your gut and bolt.
And at this point in my life, getting to the stage where I'm confronted with these dilemmas is a dragon-infested castle in and of itself.
I have been Damsel-less for a while now. Los Angeles is not a wasteland for dating. With the normal assortment of bars, farmers markets, Tinder, Runyon Canyon, Trader Joe's, dog parks, LinkedIn, etc., you can meet women, Over the past four months, I managed to get the numbers of three women. And before dialing each, I anticipated LA relationship problems in the arena of: She's more prolific on Twitter than me, a love triangle with another writer, I learn details about her from watching YouTube clips of her stand-up as opposed to hearing it from her firsthand, or she blogs about our dates (or vice versa, apparently).
#1
Left a message, asking her out.
Never heard back.
#2
Made a date.
I had to cancel. We made plans for next week.
I called to confirm, left a message.
Never heard back.
#3
Made plans.
She cancelled the day of, due to work-induced exhaustion.
Days later, she calls and apologizes for not getting back sooner. We circle a date the next week.
I call to confirm.
Never heard back.
DISCLAIMER #1: I didn't leave rambling, sprawling, Nikki messages. I didn't stutter, ramble, digress, or call her by the wrong name. Didn't call her "Baby" or make off-color jokes about Gaza. Just your generic, slightly self-deprecating voicemail.
DISCLAIMER #2: There is an implied "Psyched myself up by McConaugheyly thumping my chest" before every "Left a message."
Losing interest. Schedules that don't overlap. Geographic undesirability. Her decision that "she just doesn't have the time to devote to dating." These are my "We have to pretend to be a couple for the next week" or "We have to keep our relationship a secret from our families" or "I might actually be in love with her sister" problems. The dreaded "Where is this relationship going?" conversation consists of waiting days for a reply, then overanalyzing whether a text message "I'm sorry" is sincere or sarcastic.
Watching Ashton Kutcher meander through the murky waters of "Do I like this girl...or do I love her?" is like listening to a friend whine about office problems while you're on unemployment. Instead of complaining about actual relationship problems, here I am, complaining that I can't find a date. I had always hoped for more conflict during these romantic down times. Although, much like the movies, there are plenty of moments of self-doubt, typically set to "How Soon is Now?"
Still clinging to the idea that life works like fiction and hoping that there is some sort of structure that governs events, I've decided that either I'm in pre-Act One of a romantic comedy, waiting for the story to start, or perhaps I'm at the second act break, realizing that I have to make a serious change in order to find my dream girl.
I'm beginning to think that maybe we've been looking at the wrong genre as a basis for our love lives. The great love story of our time isn't a coincidental Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan meet cute, it's an Indiana Jones treasure hunting quest where we have to track and locate the hidden castle before we can scale it. Because right now, it feels like finding the challenge is the real obstacle.
So, I'll end this by processing life in the only way I know how: by quoting Cameron Crowe.
"I want to get hurt." -Lloyd Dobler
-30-
***********
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