Every now and then I type-puke a paranoid, exaggerated rant on a mundanity of life.
You know what sucks about being in a committed relationship? It’s that romance is a relentless, insatiable beast! Did you whisk your girl down to the Yucatan Peninsula so that you could make love atop an oceanside Mayan temple while seagulls squawked their approval of the financial and creative investments you put into picking a vacation hump space? That was a strong move. Did you think that would get you a reprieve from thinking up dates for the next three Fridays? Well you know your women like Mayans know their apocalypses.
Eddie Murphy said it best, “What have you done for me, lately?” The need for relational attentiveness is like a disease that can’t be cured. You either let the relationship die, or you keep injecting treatments of dates, flowers, thoughtful texts and generally good behavior. Go to treatment if you want to live.
The date might be the most important, repetitive piece of treatment in the boyfriend’s interactive toolbox. It highlights the majority of what you’re all about as a couple. The key is that you both have a good time doing it, which is easy in the short run. Let me go ahead and throw the no-brainers at you for free: Movie, dinner, sporting event (go with her team, it’s sports), concert, waterside picnic (pool, river, lake, beach, whatever), local brewery, movie rental, cook for her, workday lunch, First Fridays, farmer’s market brunch, and the always acceptable “drinks.” You’ve got 12 dates there, and most of them are recyclable for venues and performance.
You’ve got a great foundation there, but it’s not good enough. You’ll have to throw in something amazing like going on what she thinks is a trip to the mountains only to find yourselves in a staged life-and-death run from timberland bandits with an “it was all a joke” ending like a romantic version of The Game. That’ll breath some life back into the relationship. It’s just something you’ll have to do, ideally on a quarterly basis.
Women are in a constant state of life evaluation. Somewhere between 98-99% [citation unnecessary] of the romantic aspect of this life-evaluation go through a daily process called “gossip.” This “gossip” is an organic, group-think session through which females survey their counterparts of gender and sexual-orientation to see if they’re getting what they deserve from their significant other. A woman learns as much from listening to the lives of others as they do from feedback on their own lives. Basically a infantile attempt at the wisdom of crowds. While publications and technology have helped standardize the process by broadening the sample size beyond an emotionally attached inner circle, it’s still a troublesome model.
The inherent problem with the “gossip” model is the bias of its users. Participants say what they want others to believe, and they hear what they want to believe. If you’re a guy, the best defense against this potentially destructive echo-chamber of is to do your work early. Keep your woman believing in your romantic efforts, and then she’ll say and hear the things that reinforce your status as relationship worthy.
Some of you are thinking, “But Dust, my girl’s cool. She doesn’t care what we do as long as we’re together.” You poor fool. You’re either about to get dumped, getting cheated on, or maybe both.
Some of you are thinking, “Not my girl, Dust. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. She loves that “Perfect” song by Sara Evans, which—get this—is all about not being perfect!” You poor fool. She’s not realistic. She’s sold on a fairy tale of “normal” that she’s as committed to as I am to this blog post……Hello nurse! Sara Evans is hot!
Look, it’s Friday as I write this. I’m done writing and didn’t have anywhere particular I was going with this. Dates are a thing. Love is for the rugged. Originally I was going to write about the merits of movies as a renewable source of romantic value and why you should be seeing Enough Said this weekend if it opens near you. It got away from me, but I stand by that premise. Watch this trailer. Looks good. We’ll make an effort at coherent writing another time.
Final thought: In the long run, escorts are probably cheaper.
Hoping my girlfriend didn’t read this,
Dusty “Tulum’s Next Tourist” Riedesel