The problem with fairy stories

First there's the handsome prince riding in to save the day stuff. I would expect any of the urban princesses I know to turn him and Shadow right round with a 'I do need rescuing. I paged the sisters already. Feel free to gallop into the sunset, solo, Sunshine'. More out of date still is the notion of a perfect partner.

We all know on an intellectual level that nobody's perfect, but do we know that there's not another fellow being whose flaws are perfectly suited to ours? I am suprised how many intelligent sopisticated folk I hear talking about 'the one'. Like it's a real theory.

Do people actually believe that there's one, just one, perfect person waiting in the wings somewhere for them? Chances are on a planet with a population that runs into the billions, even if there was a one, we'd miss 'em initially. The one gets to that thirty something 'what if all the good ones go?' point and end up married to the frock round the corner who ticked five out of ten boxes.

The one would have four kids and an insecure wife by the time we met 'em. Wife would be all gutted that her once taut torso is criss-crossed with stretch marks, and that maybe he never thought she was anything better than a settle.

In we walk, bang, one-ness, this is it, this is right. You've met your one, only they're someone else's. Say they leave. At the back of the head is a voice going 'so, walked out on her when she got a bit fat, abandoned his kids like a loser, means I can never eat a ginger nut again, never dream of twins'. Suddenly, he's not your one at all. He's just some slimy married bastard looking for a leg over who needs to be dispatched with a withering 'sorry darling, no staying power, hardly a turn on'

The biggest problem with 'the one' theory however is that it creates a tick box mentality. If there is one, or maybe even more than one, maybe some, perfect matches somewhere then they would be (insert list, which usually makes said perfect partner seem in the midst of a gender identity crisis). Take me. I want my one liberated, open minded, capable of throwing me on the bed and being rude, yet at the same time excited if I stride Mrs Robinson style discarding clothes in 'hang on baby I'm coming to get you' fashion.

My one would weep with me at Pop Idol and Eastenders, yet able to build a roof with bare hands. I want an animal lover, who appreciates beauty, writes poetry, sings like an angel and can scoop me up like a butterfly even after I've had a week of Gelato feasting. I want someone who knows when listening is all that's required. I want to be looked after, not patronised, nurtured not babied, respected not nodded at, indulged, not too much. Unless I change my minds, in which case the indulging can be full time.

It's a pretty tough job description I reckon.

Problem is , if there's a perfect match somewhere then all these beautiful flawed matches I made en route, were entrees. After a certain number of entrees, the appetitite for something meaty fades.

Take my latest dating dating escapades. There's the Balinese beauty, warm, tender, peaceful, strong, drop dead gorgeous, believes in people and knows how to trust, courage of a door mouse.
Then there's the funny man, hilarious, speaks perfect English, strong, gregarious, friendly, genuine, courageous as a lion, cynical as a coppper.

See, under the perfect match scenario, Julie's script goes, courage, essential, believes in people, essential. Two beautiful men, off, out, over. Flaws go, 'can be a bit cocky, that's ok, can be a bit lazy, or a bit trashy, or a bit oops, silly me, should have thought first'. i.e. They can be flawed, as long as their flaws match mine.

Not only that but instead of working out what's lovable the focus is on what's not. Cos naturally, the one, wouldn't be lacking on essential criteria would they?

Finally, in an attempt to nail the one theory, I should point out that what it does is encourage oddly matched, but perfectly compatible, with a trough of hard work, couples, to go round exclaiming 'I just knew' or other such bollocks. What this generally means is either 'I just knew if I didn't jump now the other good ones would be gone', 'I just knew I fancied a long steamy session and don't want people to think I'm a slap who puts out on the first date' or,' I just knew if I told that voice at the back of my head to shut up I could convince myself and everyone else this one's 'THE ONE''.

With all this in mind, I've decided to develop a new theory to replace 'the one'.
It's called the three.
Maybe I'll whittle it down at a later stage, and sure I need to whittle it up at this point, but I think it'll be more fun than believing in fairy stories.