Fantasy Land
Last Friday, a news story swept around the internet faster than…well, faster than it would have in print. It was about a woman named Julia. Julia had met a nice chap while on holiday in Ibiza (a destination known for romance, arts, culture and the finer things in life – by all that I of course mean foam parties and getting sloshed). They shared one kiss. Julia gave him her number, he never called. Months pass and Julia, now convinced that the fella is the love of her life, thinks she may have given him the wrong number – THAT’S why he never called. So, she did what any woman who’s never heard back from a guy would do: she launched a national PR campaign to find him. Cue intense cringing.
The guy she was looking for, Martin, has been found and surprise surprise, he has a girlfriend, though apparently, he’s very flattered by Julia’s gesture (as you would be).
What I found rather compelling was that Julia’s friends were the driving force behind this. After hearing her talk about this one kiss endlessly, they encouraged her to search far and wide – going off the little information they knew about him, they even took to drinking in pubs in his area hoping to catch a glimpse of him – and then, when all else failed, they convinced her it was a good idea to launch a media campaign to find him.
What the hell kind of friends are these?! My guess is they can’t actually like Julia and wanted to see her humiliated. I can’t imagine any of my friends indulging me going on about one brief drunken encounter in Ibiza for months. When I reached the point of convincing myself I’d given him the wrong number, I imagine I would’ve been on the receiving end of several bitch slaps.
Oh sure, maybe the earth moved during that one kiss, maybe it really was so romantic and mind blowing but even so, it seems terribly unfair for her friends to have indulged this foolishness and essentially play a part in this woman becoming a laughing stock.
To me, these girls have displayed nothing short of stalker tendencies and a ridiculous propensity for infantile fantasies. They are grown women, not teenage girls. Someone should’ve given her a copy of ‘He’s Just Not That Into You’ months ago.
But wait, if the tables were turned, and it was a man searching far and wide for his missed connection, would we all be oooh-ing and ahh-ing talking about how sweet it is? Is there a double standard here? These sort of grand gestures from women are always deemed obsessive and desperate. Maybe Julia was right and she really did feel something.
But I can’t help thinking that Julia, at the age of 33, might be falling victim to the ’30 Plus Syndrome’ – that pressure to have it all by the time you’re 30. Being 33 and single makes for uncomfortable social chatter at times, especially if all your friends are in relationships. Could it be that Julia is clinging to any possible connection in the vague hope she’ll claw her way out of this social stigma and be able to go to at least one family dinner without her mother saying ‘So, have you met anybody yet?’
Lord knows we’ve all been there Jules. We’ve all deluded ourselves into thinking a guy was into us when he really wasn’t. We’ve all had the endless debates about why he hasn’t called or text, we all have supportive girlfriends who will swear til the cows come home that both the guys arms were severed off in a terrible farming accident and he’s lost all ability to use a phone, just to make us feel better.
But you know what? Public Enemy said it best: Don’t believe the hype.
