I'd
tried being that confident woman. I asked a man out. I
sent him flowers. I sent emails and invitations to make
it easier for him to ask out a daunting and desirable
woman like me. None of it had worked. It turned him
right off. I'd thought I was being assertive, but he saw it
as harassment.
I'd felt embarrassed and shamed, and since then
I hadn't asked anyone out again. I'd gone from one
extreme to another, as my brother Dillon would say.
How could I tell my students that I hadn't had a real
date for months, that men didn't ask me out, and I
didn't ask them, and now my friends stayed up late
workshopping the problem and my family all thought
I was a lesbian?
'Miss, have you ever asked a man out?'
'I think we're getting too far off the topic, girls,'
I said, and turned my back to them, hoping they
wouldn't notice my wobbly hand as I cleaned the
blackboard.
'What about arranged marriages, Miss? What do
you think of them?'
I wouldn't be in my current predicament if I'd had an
arranged marriage. Then again, I might just be married
to my mum's friend Janet's gay son, Cliff, a right-wing
hairdresser who secretly desired Keith Windschuttle.
'Arranged marriages are often very successful, but
they don't necessarily work for everyone.' The bell
rang.
'Class dismissed, and don't forget to read Chapter 6
of Butterfly Song by Terri Janke to discuss next week. It
will be on the exams at the end of the year.'
six
Holmesy
That night the phone rang as I finished the last of a
bowl of two-minute noodles. I picked up, my mouth
still full.
'Hello?'
'Hi, I'm Mickey's cousin, Daniel.'
Mickey must have got to work on organising my
blind date already. I was caught completely unaware.
No script in front of me, no points to follow to keep the
conversation going. I didn't have my 'Strategies for not
meeting Mr Right' in front of me as a reference either.
Daniel continued: 'Mickey told me you're interested
in playing touch football?' I nearly choked. I couldn't
run with a football even if there was a guarantee of a
wedding ring and husband waiting at the end of the
field. I'm simply not fit enough, and too top heavy, and
I look ridiculous when I run. And ... And ... And ...
what was Mickey thinking ?
'Orrright,' was all I could muster in response,
sounding like a complete yob.
'I thought you might like to come to a game on Thursday,
meet the team and maybe have a drink afterwards.'
Okay, so that's what Mickey was thinking – I could
pretend to be interested in sport and have a casual
drink. Sure, I could do that.
'Sounds good.' I got the details from Daniel and
hung up. I was so excited I jumped up and down like
a teenager, running on the spot, singing a new mantra: I've got a date! I've got a date! The strategy was working,
my plans were coming together, I would reach my goal!
I walked down my hall and did a little side kick in the
air like they do in the movies.
***
Before the game I went shopping for some flattering
sportswear and the sexiest sports bra I could find, then
agonised over how to wear my hair: up or down or
baseball cap? I called Dillon, because he was a sports
fanatic. He just said, 'It doesn't really matter that much
what you wear, Alice, just don't say anything stupid.
You don't know anything about sport, so don't pretend
you do. It won't help.' I'd planned on asking him to give
me some pointers on the game itself, but it didn't seem
the right time.
***
I was looking very athletic when I met Daniel at the
sideline before his game. We just said hello, as the
starting buzzer was about to go. I did a quick check,
and I looked just like every other sporty chick there.
The others were on the field, though, or getting ready to
play. I couldn't have run the length of the field if I tried
and I made up some lame excuse about a bad ankle.
I watched the game with as much interest as a nonfooty-
kinda-girl could muster. I had no idea who was
winning, what the score was, or even what the rules
were, but I honestly didn't
tried being that confident woman. I asked a man out. I
sent him flowers. I sent emails and invitations to make
it easier for him to ask out a daunting and desirable
woman like me. None of it had worked. It turned him
right off. I'd thought I was being assertive, but he saw it
as harassment.
I'd felt embarrassed and shamed, and since then
I hadn't asked anyone out again. I'd gone from one
extreme to another, as my brother Dillon would say.
How could I tell my students that I hadn't had a real
date for months, that men didn't ask me out, and I
didn't ask them, and now my friends stayed up late
workshopping the problem and my family all thought
I was a lesbian?
'Miss, have you ever asked a man out?'
'I think we're getting too far off the topic, girls,'
I said, and turned my back to them, hoping they
wouldn't notice my wobbly hand as I cleaned the
blackboard.
'What about arranged marriages, Miss? What do
you think of them?'
I wouldn't be in my current predicament if I'd had an
arranged marriage. Then again, I might just be married
to my mum's friend Janet's gay son, Cliff, a right-wing
hairdresser who secretly desired Keith Windschuttle.
'Arranged marriages are often very successful, but
they don't necessarily work for everyone.' The bell
rang.
'Class dismissed, and don't forget to read Chapter 6
of Butterfly Song by Terri Janke to discuss next week. It
will be on the exams at the end of the year.'
six
Holmesy
That night the phone rang as I finished the last of a
bowl of two-minute noodles. I picked up, my mouth
still full.
'Hello?'
'Hi, I'm Mickey's cousin, Daniel.'
Mickey must have got to work on organising my
blind date already. I was caught completely unaware.
No script in front of me, no points to follow to keep the
conversation going. I didn't have my 'Strategies for not
meeting Mr Right' in front of me as a reference either.
Daniel continued: 'Mickey told me you're interested
in playing touch football?' I nearly choked. I couldn't
run with a football even if there was a guarantee of a
wedding ring and husband waiting at the end of the
field. I'm simply not fit enough, and too top heavy, and
I look ridiculous when I run. And ... And ... And ...
what was Mickey thinking ?
'Orrright,' was all I could muster in response,
sounding like a complete yob.
'I thought you might like to come to a game on Thursday,
meet the team and maybe have a drink afterwards.'
Okay, so that's what Mickey was thinking – I could
pretend to be interested in sport and have a casual
drink. Sure, I could do that.
'Sounds good.' I got the details from Daniel and
hung up. I was so excited I jumped up and down like
a teenager, running on the spot, singing a new mantra: I've got a date! I've got a date! The strategy was working,
my plans were coming together, I would reach my goal!
I walked down my hall and did a little side kick in the
air like they do in the movies.
***
Before the game I went shopping for some flattering
sportswear and the sexiest sports bra I could find, then
agonised over how to wear my hair: up or down or
baseball cap? I called Dillon, because he was a sports
fanatic. He just said, 'It doesn't really matter that much
what you wear, Alice, just don't say anything stupid.
You don't know anything about sport, so don't pretend
you do. It won't help.' I'd planned on asking him to give
me some pointers on the game itself, but it didn't seem
the right time.
***
I was looking very athletic when I met Daniel at the
sideline before his game. We just said hello, as the
starting buzzer was about to go. I did a quick check,
and I looked just like every other sporty chick there.
The others were on the field, though, or getting ready to
play. I couldn't have run the length of the field if I tried
and I made up some lame excuse about a bad ankle.
I watched the game with as much interest as a nonfooty-
kinda-girl could muster. I had no idea who was
winning, what the score was, or even what the rules
were, but I honestly didn't
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