This is what I first wrote, which was totally panned. However, it was later picked up by this blog.
Nostalgia fest. Get ready.
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Macy’s was a popular nightspot – frankly
the place to be. It was above a
bowling alley every Friday on an edge of town trading estate in
Nottingham. They did foam parties
and at the end of the night, you would stickily walk to your parent’s car. Often by 9pm, the sun had not even
started to go down. We were 13 and
the party was shamelessly referred to as a ‘nappy night’.
The ritual of courtship at these nights was
not subtle. On seeing someone you
liked, you would tell a friend who’s job it was to see if they liked you back. There was no discussion, instead they
would immediately go over to ask the recipient of your affection “will you get
off with my mate?”. You were then
inspected. We later worked out
that at this point a second friend was helpful so you could fake a conversation
– otherwise you were left standing awkwardly, a mess of hair gel and lynx, as
you awaited the verdict. Like
Tinder you would try and look your best, unlike Tinder you had to witness your
rejection. It builds character.
The goal of these nights was always to kiss
as many people as possible. On the
drive home, we would compare notes and numbers – I think my PB was 5. Nobody ever beat Lee Taylor’s 32. He eventually contracted glandular
fever.
I do not recall there being a difference of
approach between the genders.
Maybe girls were more selective, but certainly they were as likely to
approach someone they liked, no stigma attached. Hey – it was 1998, Geri hadn’t quit the band and ‘girl
power’ was ringing loudly in our ears.
Friends just a few years older tell me that
when they were at school, there were definitely more ‘traditionally’ defined
gender roles to courting. Julie
who would have been 13 in 1989 tells me you were basically Madonna if a girl
asked out a boy. Raunchy. However, she never went to a nappy night, being more a of a
village hall sort of girl. Perhaps
I am just more cosmopolitan.
These days, I find people a little bit backward
if they think women should wait to be chased. I was recently performing at a speed-dating night and one of
the other acts booked was an academic doing a talk on ‘The Psychology of
Attraction’ (it was a science themed speed dating night). He was awful.
After spending a long time clearing his
throat, the lecturer began his talk by describing women as some sort of
uncatalogued species, not yet fully understood and best approached with
caution. He certainly did not
betray much field experience. It
then turned out he had not finished clearing his throat at all, and the rest of
his talk to the aghast audience was almost endless phlegmy noises done
unapologetically noisily down a mic, punctuated by what seemed to be tips from
“The Game”.
“HARRUMPHHYAGUUAUAHSHSANANAHUH… Negging
involves hurting women with back handed compliments so you can then build up
their confidence e.g. “They’re nice nails, are they fake?”.”
No wonder women would stop ‘waiting to be
chased’ with the creeps like this dropping clumsy insults to try and manipulate
them into bed, instead of just talking to them.
My friend Polly (13 in 2001, early Britney
Spears fan) tells me I am definitely wrong. On the dating app Tinder she is definitely warey of being
the first to initiate conversations as it is against the rules. Although she does miss the fact
that before you can speak to people, you’ve already ‘swiped right’ to say that
you like them. Tinder is a bit
like that friend at Macy’s but only comes back with the good news. Nevertheless, I have apparently been
oblivious to this sexual etiquette, probably because I am more concerned with
the ebb and flow of my own desirability, trying to look cool while I wait to
see who likes me – can I afford dinner in that restaurant? Is that person funnier? Is this confident act working… I am not really bothered about the
rules, I just want to like someone who likes me back.
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