Rambling

I once had someone ask me the question “do you want to be my girlfriend” with the somewhat unusual wording: “I’d like to ask the question in song 9 on the Shania Twain album” – which might have been more effective if I’d remembered which song was number 9 (to his defense, in the circumstances it wasn’t quite such an obscure wording as it may sound, had I been awake, alert and totally sober I would probably have known).

On second thought, the question might have been meant a little more directly (“Voulez-vous couchez avec moi ce soir?”, or similar) as the song in question is “If You Wanna Touch Her – Ask“. It makes no difference whatsoever, as the answer was “No” in any case. Yet another perfectly nice bloke which, for some reason, completely failed to interest me on that level (sorry). At least I managed to handle it reasonable well (i.e. we were still talking the last time I checked).

That wasn’t the point, though. I’m sure I had a point when I started writing this. Ah, yes, I remember now…

I was listening to the song in question yesterday and thinking about the aforementioned occasion (as you do), and realised that, though Shania definitely has a point, there is something to be said for the somewhat more direct approach. Not that it would be advisable to disregard signals sent (if she recoils with a look of disgust on her face when you accidentally touch hands, you might want to give the whole thing up as a bad job), but I’m not sure that the bloke in question wouldn’t have been better off just attempting to kiss me rather than ask permission (in a rather cryptic way – which gave me a perfect excuse to say “can we talk about it tomorrow?”, close the door and sleep on the problem of how to say “No” nicely). I’m not saying we’d now be married with kids and a dog, but I might have been shocked into believing it could work for a while, whereas instead I had time to panic and realise that this was really not what I wanted (as usual I had probably been – in my way – flirting recklessly, so he could be forgiven for expecting a different answer). If you’re setting yourself up for rejection anyway, a “May I kiss you” might just result in a “No” and is pretty much guaranteed to stop the conversation dead, whereas an actual attempt will at least give you both something to say (“I’m sorry” and “Don’t worry about it, I’m flattered, really” or “How dare you! Never try something like that again!” respectively), and you might get at least one proper kiss out of it. Besides, I’ve never quite figured out how one gets from a “May I kiss you” – “Yes” situation to an actual, reasonably natural kiss, either. Who starts? Is one supposed to just stand there and wait for him to continue, or does one “prepare oneself”. How would one prepare oneself? Pout one’s lips? How ridiculous would that look? (Not enough practice, that’s what it is.) Asking for permission places the ball a little too firmly in the other person’s court. And if the court in question is mine, this is a bad idea. I am not a touchy-feely person. I don’t place my hand on people’s arm in the course of conversation. And though I like being hugged, I just don’t start hugs naturally myself, apart from situations where I’m saying hello or goodbye to my family or close friends (and even then I sometimes have to make an effort to remember that I’m “supposed to”). In any other situation, my brother is the only person I will initiate a hug with. So expecting me to handle a question like that with equanimity is about as realistic as – uhm, I was going to say snow in June, but that does happen in Norway – whatever unrealistic, when hell freezes over and pigs fly kind of thing you can think of. That’s how unrealistic it is.

And apart from all that, every girl likes to be swept off her feet now and again.

Voice in my head: Alanis Morisette – Precious Illusions