Not Meeting Mr Right Page 4

  'So what did you do?'

  'I'd say "This is David, he's my own personal anthropologist." ' We laughed some more.

  'Anything else for the list, Alice?' Liza was the only one truly keeping on track.

  'He has to be non-racist, non-fascist and nonhomophobic, and believe in something, preferably himself. And, apropos of nothing, he must be punctual.'

  'But you can be on Koori time whenever you want, right?' Dannie couldn't help herself.

  'That's right,' Peta chipped in.

  'He must be romantic and be comfortable with showing affection in public, and by that I don't mean grabbing me on the tit every time he kisses me.'

  'Who did that?' Peta wanted to know.

  'Jason, the young surfer I met down the coast last New Year's. Every time we kissed he grabbed my left breast, didn't matter where we were.'

  'Why not your right one?' Peta asked.

  'Left one's slightly bigger. He loved it more,' I said matter-of-factly. The discussion was getting off track again, so I brought it back. 'I want a man who is financially secure and hopefully debt-free.'

  'What about a mortgage?' Liza asked.

  'A mortgage is fine. I just don't want him working twenty-four/seven to pay off his gambling debts.'

  'Now who are you outing?' Dannie said. 'You're a bloody serial dater, Alice.'

  'Grant – remember him? We met at the Leukaemia Foundation ball. Turned out he backed the horses to the point where he was working seventy hours a week to cover his debts. That's not the kind of man I want to marry. Would anyone?'

  'Depends, was he built?' Peta always managed to bring it back to basics.

  'Okay, you've got a pretty strong list here, Alice. Anything else you want to add?' Liza was trying to wrap up her side of the work. She'd been a very objective scribe and facilitator.

  'Yes, I want a loyal, faithful, sincere, chivalrous, witty, competent and responsible man.' I was completely serious, but Dannie burst into giggles.

  'That's it, then?' Liza asked, almost impatiently.

  'No. Can you add that he should be a good communicator as well?'

  'You've got to be kidding, Alice. I've never met any man like the one you're looking for,' Dannie said, marvelling at the long list of criteria I'd come up with.

  'What about George?'

  Dannie squealed with laughter. 'George! That's it, I'm going to pee myself! You live in a fantasy world sometimes, Alice.' She got up off the sofa and ran along the hall to the bathroom.

  'Well, Alice, no-one could accuse you of not aiming high.' Even Liza, whose standards were generally rather exacting, was surprised at what I expected in a potential partner.

  'Based on previous experience, as you have just heard, sis, I've got to aim high. The more you ask for, the more you're likely to get, right?'

  'Or the harder you might fall, Missy.' Peta wasn't convinced.

  When Dannie came back from the loo, Liza read out my final list of essential selection criteria for the position of Mr Right, or, as she called it, 'Alice's tenpoint plan'.

  Essential selection criteria for Mr Right

  1. Must be single, straight and wanting to be in a relationship

  2. Must be good to his mother and like children

  3. Must love his job (don't want him whingeing every night about his day)

  4. Must only be addicted to me (not alcohol or narcotics, and he must not smoke)

  5. Must think I am the most gorgeous woman on the planet

  6. Must be a non-racist, non-fascist, nonhomophobic believer in something, preferably himself

  7. Must be punctual (although I am allowed to be on Koori time)

  8. Must be romantic and be able to show affection in public

  9. Must be financially secure and debt-free (mortgage will be acceptable)

  10. He must be loyal, faithful, sincere, chivalrous, witty, competent, responsible and a good communicator (i.e. he must be a good listener)

  'Actually, I'd like to add some non-essential criteria as well. Just a couple of desirable characteristics that might help me identify the real potentials.'

  'I'm going to need another drink, then,' said Peta, and took herself out to the kitchen.

  'I'd like him to be in the property market – or at least thinking of getting into it. And I don't want anyone with a criminal record, so don't be lining me up with any of your clients, Liza, okay?'

  'What about teeth and hair?' Dannie asked cheekily.

  'Well yes, he should have both, and they should be his own, of course.'

  She wasn't giving up. 'Here's one for you, Al: what if he's got kids from a previous marriage?'

  'Nup, don't want an instant family either, or stalker ex-girlfriends, been there with Terry – had to get an AVO out against them both eventually.'

  'Okay, that's gotta be it now, Alice – you can't possibly have any more criteria, surely?' I was turning into one of Liza's more difficult clients.

  'Actually ...' – I admit I was a little embarrassed to add yet another criterion, but it was important to me – 'It would help if he were a compatible star sign.' Aria said that for a harmonious relationship, the perfect matches for Leos were Tauruses, other Leos, Scorpios and Capricorns. If I wanted passion – and what girl didn't? – I should try Aries, Gemini, Libra or Aquarius, and if I was looking for a challenge, then I should date Cancerians, Virgos or Pisceans. I wanted it all – harmony, passion and a challenge – so that just ruled out Sagittarians, really. I trusted Aria.

  'I think you should stop there, Alice, and move onto your strategy for meeting this one-in-five-hundred-million guy. Your so-called Mr Right?' Liza made me feel like I was in one of those little rooms with the oneway mirrored windows where they grill baddies on TV. She was taking it all so seriously. But then, so was I.

  'You mean Mr Unbelievably-Perfect-Needs-To-Be- Cloned,' Dannie said, shaking her head. She stood up and headed to the kitchen, where Peta was still busy making some late-night cocktails.

  Peta was the real party girl of the group. I met her in the Bachelor of Education course at Sydney's University of Technology when we were in first year. I went on to teach and she decided to go into policy making. She was good at it. She'd never have made a schoolmarm anyway; she was too effortlessly glamorous for that, with her trendy clothes, flawless make-up, and about 300 pairs of shoes. Imelda Marcos had nothing on our Peta. She knew that a career in teaching would never have allowed her to maintain her elaborate wardrobe. I was happy with her decision, because I often borrowed her clothes. Yes, Peta's career in policy furthered Indigenous education and helped two Indigenous women to look good at the same time.

  Peta was also the prettiest of the group. We knew it. She knew it. Her broad smile lit up any room she walked into. Her buttered body was toned and golden (''Cos I'm a Murri from Queensland,' she always said), and her long, luxurious, mahogany ponytail drove guys wild. It wasn't unusual to see Peta surrounded by a swarm of young admirers at our local, the Cushion Bar down at Coogee Beach, on a Friday night. She just seduced men with her presence. I could've learned a lot from Peta on that front. She was always positive, no matter what, and incredibly likeable as well. She could be sharp, sometimes, but only when dealing with ignorant whitefellas, and even then she made sure she had good cause. Between Peta, Liza and Dannie, I had the best mix of friends a single, childless woman of twenty-eight could hope for.

  Soon Peta and Dannie brought out fresh drinks, and we settled down to work on the strategy. I had read in Aria's Almanac that feng shui-ing your home would not only bring peace and harmony, but could bring love as well. So I started my list with that: Feng shui flat.

  'Secondly, you'll need to get your friends to set you up with their single friends. Blind dates. Don't get too blind yourself, of course,' Peta said. 'You should also suss out people at work – maybe there are some single dads floating around. And what about Mickey? He must have some mates.' I wasn't too keen on the singledad idea, but Peta was right: Mickey should know someon
e I could date. Mickey was my only close friend at St Christina's. He taught science. Being gay, he was great at getting in a huddle for girl-talk, exchanging dating horror stories and fashion disasters. Most of the time, we met at the Cushion Bar to debrief. Mickey liked a few G&Ts too, and there were fewer suspicious Christian eyes upon us there than in the staff room.

  'What about attending a few work-related events, like conferences and department functions? I'm sure the school will pay for some professional development. At least at those kind of gigs you can meet people who do similar work,' Liza said. It seemed a sensible, practical suggestion; the list was coming together nicely.

  'You could place an ad in the classifieds. I knew someone who met her husband that way. She also got shagged a lot along the way.' While I wasn't just looking for a 'shag', Peta's idea might be a valid strategy.

  'Can we just say I'll check out the classifieds, as opposed to placing an advert myself? That's just a little too desperate for me, I think.' They rolled their eyes collectively. Obviously I was desperate; otherwise, I wouldn't have dragged them all to my place in the middle of the night to workshop my problems.

  'Same with internet dating. I heard one of the mothers at the school saying her sister's friend was doing it and met an engineer,' Dannie added. She was clearly impressed with 'engineer status', but that was okay – so was I! I was quite open to becoming Mrs Engineer.

  Liza was next to offer a strategy: 'I recently read about this annual singles picnic at Bondi. It's called "Singles Uprising." You might want to check it out.'

  Liza never ceased to amaze me with the amount of useful trivia she knew. 'How on earth did you come across that?' I asked.

  'I googled "uprisings" for a paper I was writing for the Indigenous Law Bulletin, and that was one of the sites I found.' Thank god one of my friends was an internet nerd!

  Looking for an excuse to take a trip, I added 'holiday romance' at the bottom of the page. 'That's it,' I said. 'We're done.'

  Liza read the list out loud:

  Strategies for meeting Mr Right

  Feng shui flat

  Go on blind dates with suitable (single, heterosexual) friends of friends

  Suss out potential dates through work – single colleagues and their friends

  Attend professional gatherings – conferences, meetings

  Place an ad in the classifieds

  Try internet dating

  Attend 'Singles Uprising'

  Be open to holiday romances

  Liza paused. 'I guess we could sum these strategies up with one simple command,' she said. She took a fat purple texta and wrote across the top of the page: 'BE OPEN TO ALL OPPORTUNITIES!' Then she stood up and went straight to the kitchen, where she removed all the takeaway Thai and pizza menus stuck to my fridge and used the magnets to put the lists up in their place. 'Leave these here as a daily reminder of the process involved in achieving your goals before your thirtieth birthday cut-off date, Alice.' Evereffi cient, she recognised something else we needed to do: 'I think while we're at it we should make a short list of the strategies for not meeting Mr Right.' She was onto something. Whatever I'd been doing in the past obviously wasn't working.

  'The first strategy should probably be not to stray from your list, Alice! Stick to the strategy!' Liza was right, of course, and that would be a useful mantra during down times.

  'Don't get too pissed and make a complete dick of yourself when you're out on dates, either.' Peta knew what she was talking about, having spent many weekends cursing herself for things she'd done on a Friday-night date under the influence of alcohol.

  'Never talk about exes on your first date, Alice. Actually, don't talk about them at all. That's probably the best advice I can give you,' Dannie said. The last man she went out with before she'd met George was the local mayor, who had moaned about his ex-girlfriend dumping him for another woman. It had been so bad Dannie had walked out of a restaurant mid-meal.

  'It drove me nuts, so I dumped him. So, if we don't like them talking about their exes, I'm sure they won't like it either.' She was right, of course.

  'Don't forget the rule about no sex on the first date.' Peta stood, as if to give a public oration, took a long slug on her drink, then continued: 'Men might like you to be as wild as a tiger in bed, but they'd also like to believe that you are virtuous, at least for the first date.'

  'When's acceptable these days?' Dannie had been out of the game for some time, and so had I, compared to Peta.

  'The third date is usually acceptable. By then the juices are well and truly flowing and you can count the previous dates as foreplay.' Peta could be crude, but she sounded like she knew what she was talking about.

  Liza added the no-sex-till-the-third-date rule to the list, then said, 'Alice, don't even think about dating any of your friends' exes. If she dumped him, you can rest assured there's a good reason for it.' Liza had gone out briefly with one of Peta's exes, who we had all called 'The Root-Rat'. The emphasis was always on rat – he just couldn't be faithful. Even for Peta, a notorious good-time girl, it had been too much, so she'd dumped him. The Root-Rat had always fancied Liza and we all knew it. Liza had believed he would be different with her, that she could tame him. She couldn't and didn't. Luckily the friendship between the girls hadn't soured; in fact, they still joked about it.

  As the clock hit two am, Liza went to read back the key points, but I had two more of my own to add first.

  First, dating Cancerians or Geminis was out, I explained, because I was superstitious. I didn't like the thought of dying from cancer and every Gemini I had ever met was constantly sick. I was probably being irrational, but I wasn't going to change my mind.

  Second, under no circumstances was I to pick men up at the pub. I didn't want any one-night stands. I was smart enough to know I couldn't really build a solid relationship on a night spent with a near stranger. I'd tried it a couple of times and the result had only been long-term one-night stands. Anyway, part of me was terrified at the thought of taking a stranger home. What if the guy I picked up turned out to be an axemurderer?

  'Don't be so ridiculous, Alice, they don't want to kill you! They want to shag you, that's all.' Peta had had enough one-night stands to know. She'd spent some time as a serial dater as well.

  Liza read out the new list:

  Strategies for NOT meeting Mr Right

  Straying from the list of strategies

  Getting pissed and making a complete dick of self

  Talking about ex-boyfriends on first date

  Putting out on the first date

  Dating friends' exes

  Dating Cancerians or Geminis

  Picking men up at the pub (i.e. No one-night stands under ANY circumstances)

  Peta and Liza nodded, accepting the drafted policy and its key points. Dannie, slightly pissed by this stage, was silent, but very busy at the same time.

  'What are you doing?' Peta asked sarcastically. She'd had a few drinks by now, too. I could feel one of their meaningless spats on the way.

  'I'm doing a SWOT analysis for Alice meeting Mr Right.'

  'A what?'

  'SWOT. Strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats.'

  'Oh for god's sake, Dannie, I know what a bloody SWOT analysis is. I've finished my degree, Mummy.' Peta was getting messy and Dannie was clearly upset by her display of bitchiness. Liza moved straight into appeasing facilitator mode.