Mrs. Who?

So, the news is that a famous prisoner has been granted permission to marry.

The question is, who would marry him?

This is a young man who has had his whole face and head (and, perhaps body, but I'm not going there) tattooed with hate messages. More importantly, he is a convicted murderer.

Although I'm not personally fond of tattoos, I know many nice people have them. However, this man has carried it so far that I can't see what he looks like. Maybe this was his purpose. Along with not having an attractive look in my book, someone who is completely hiding behind tattoos may possibly be an unlikely candidate for the open and honest thing most of us want in a relationship. And he's violent.

Also, the guy is in prison. For the rest of his life. Could also be on death row. It's probably just me, but that's not what I would look for in a guy. I kind of like someone I can have access to on a frequent basis, who can contribute to the household finances and chores, be a role model for my children, be there for me when I need a partner, or at least cook my dinner.

As far as I know, the news has not revealed who the lucky bride-to-be is, but it does make one wonder.

Back in my single days, I started to notice that there is not exactly equity between the sexes as far as ease in getting married. I used to go to dances and sometimes stand on the side for most of the time, because all of the attractive men had brought their own dates. And this was back when I was cute. I would re-shower, put on something very nice and often dry cleanable only, recurl my hair, redo my makeup, pay for a baby sitter, and go out trying to meet my match.

Then I would stand in a steaming crowd among other beautiful, classy, trim, and intelligent-looking women, and wait.

Men would show up in jeans and a tee shirt--having made no effort at all. If they didn't already have all their dances pre-booked with the date they brought, decent men were so in demand that they could dance every dance with someone different and not even make a dent in the number of women looking at them.

There used to be a guy at every dance whom I, not really affectionately, called "the Mole." I picked this name for him because I never knew his name, and because he walked around with his head down on his chubby front and his shoulders shrugged. Had there been grass on the dance floor, he would have tunneled right through it to me. He always asked me to dance twice a night.

At first, I would dance with him just to be nice and to get me out there on the floor in order to be seen. But when I found myself busy all night with those who would be his friends if they knew how to make friends, I had to wonder if this was hurting instead of helping my chances. I was not overly vain, but I did own a mirror, and I had to wonder if these crowd-fringe guys really thought they were my equal, or didn't care as long as I danced with them, or what? The Mole never tried to talk to me, so I really didn't know his intentions, and maybe he had none.

But some guys did. I can't even tell you how many "between jobs" (this was before the bad economy), "slipped a disk," "going back to school but I don't know what in yet," "was excommunicated but don't worry about it," "wife just died," and "living with Mom" stories I heard in the first fifteen seconds of meeting someone this way. And I noticed that, when I started going to the older dances instead of the younger ones, the first question I was asked changed from, "What school do you go to?" to "Why are you divorced?"

I am not a mean person. I'm not talking about good-catches-but just-not-quite-Prince-Charming here. I am talking about guys who would show up smelling so badly of mildew that they must have dried their clothes in the dryer without turning it on. (It takes I would guess about a week that way.) Guys who nervously confessed as I tried to avoid their smelly armpits that their bishops had "challenged" them come to a dance.

So I decided I was no longer going to make such an effort and pay good money to dance all night with guys who just, frankly, didn't have a chance. I decided to give a guy one look and, if there was honestly no way, just say no.

I'll never forget the first time I tried it. A guy shuffled his way over to me and I gave him the once-over. His clothes were dirty and torn, and his mustache had food in it. I smiled sweetly and said, "No, but thank you."

He was so sure the answer would be yes that he turned to start walking out on the dance floor (assuming I'd follow), and then did a double-take. "What did you say?"

"Thank you for asking, but, no thanks."

He stared at me like what I had done was completely unbelievable.

It was an experiment, and I found the results fascinating. Seriously? I wondered. Does every girl always say yes, no matter what?

Then I started extending this asking-for-a-dance thing in my mind to analyze the whole male-female thing. I know there are plenty of males who stay in a relationship too long or put up with what they shouldn't, but it seems to me to be a particularly common female downfall.

Are we so brainwashed by the stories of how when the prince shows up, all the problems are solved, that we will take anyone male? No matter what?

It's just not like that for women. Most of the time, in order for a woman to attract a man, she has to meet up to certain criteria. If a man cannot find anyone who meets his criteria, he can still find a woman, because there are plenty of women who I think will take anyone. There do not seem to be plenty of men who will take any woman, no matter what.

I have known of so many stories, some of them my own, where women put up with all kinds of far-less-than-ideal situations just to hang on to or catch a man who seems, really, not all that worth catching. The one whose live-in "fiance" slept with other women in his office in the same building where we all worked. The one whose husband held her hostage in her home for a week, yet she took him back. The one whose husband raped her six-month-old baby, which killed it, and she took him back. The ones who let guys live off of their welfare benefits and never contribute in any way other than as a sperm bank.

I wish I could get the whole of society to try an experiment. What if we didn't accept any man in any circumstance? What if all women required a man to meet a certain standard before accepting him? Wouldn't men do the male equivalent of dolling themselves up, so to speak--improving themselves in the ways we need them to--for women? I betcha they would if it was the only way to get one.

Sadly, I have become convinced through all that I have seen, that any man, and I mean any, could find a woman who would marry him, no matter what.