There are those who love “the chase”, the pursuit and coy-eyes-across-a-room at a new lover. Indeed, some of them love the chase more than the actual relationship itself, getting bored after the initial high and finding themselves distracted by challenges new. There’s a many a book, movie and TV series about those people and their adventures. Many feature Sarah Jessica Parker.
Then there’s that lesser hailed creature: the person who wished they could just have their new partner arrive fully formed on their doorstep, and immediately launch into a life of box sets and Friday nights eating Marks & Spencer and maybe a browse in Avoca in Kilmacanogue for lunch on a bank holiday Sunday. Yes, they want an attractive partner and the sex but primarily they’re fed up with the stress of dating and Tinder. And your friends assuming that “Well, you’re single and have a pulse, and he’s single and has a pulse” so you’re both compatible. As he clears a six day old pizza box from his coffee table, or she recounts a detailed list of The Things She Won’t Put Up With.
Then there’s The Thing. The fact that someone is still single in their forties and hasn’t been married. For women it’s easier: they’ve just been working their way through Dublin’s Male Arsehole Carousel. And by arsehole, we mean not lacking Clooneyesque qualities but actually unpleasant at best and “Tonight, on Criminal Minds!” at worst. For men it’s the Something Wrong thing, that he must be gay or weird or “confirmed bachelor” which could be either of the former or “I’m caring for Mother”.
Ideally, some form of profiling and pre-vetting would suit. I mean, the FBI can work out who’s a serial killer. Why can’t they say “You should date her, and you him. You both love 1960s spy movies and share a predilection for spanking.” Is that so much to ask for?