Types and leagues.

I’ve had this discussion with countless people.  What is your type?  What do you look for in a guy/girl?  Why am I not good enough for you?  I’ll change?  The final two are generally my drunken ramblings when I am feeling desperately lonely.  It’s interesting that we see the need to classify ourselves into groups that allow for others to come along and order a ‘tall, leggy brunette with a nice laugh’.  As I live in a consumerist society, this wouldn’t be stretching the truth too much.  I mean, there is no doubt I could drive into the city with a couple of hundred smackaroos, enter a brothel and ask for the exact type mentioned above.  Sure, it wouldn’t quite be earning your own keep but it would still allow me to stick to a certain ‘type’ and we wouldn’t even have to consider the word ‘league’.

I’m not saying that we should all attempt to avoid our natural urges and try to change the person or the race or the culture or even the gender that we are drawn toward.  What I am saying is that we should not succumb to that social pressure of having to be constrained by the idea that we must choose a certain type of person over and over, where is the fun in that?  Maybe I am stuck in that notion that any sex is good sex which would lead me to be a very, very naughty boy rather than some sort of messianic figure.  However, I am troubled by someone who is influenced to not chase someone who is different to their ‘type’.  Alright, it doesn’t keep me up at night but it does bother me slightly.

The type that both like red wine.

I enjoy Thai food, I enjoy Mexican, I enjoy Greek, Italian, Moroccan and to an extent, Chinese food.  Does this make me a whore?  No.  I just have to watch my weight when I start thinking about tucking into my 8th honey glazed rib at some obscure restaurant down a dark alleyway.  People are unique.  Maybe all of our words have been uttered throughout the course of human history but everyone moves differently to certain songs and responds differently to different personal crises and to ignore this difference leads me into this unholy assumption that some people just hate to be bothered by the inconvenience that there are probably people they are better suited to than the one who is next to them on a Sunday evening while they watch an episode of ‘Geordie Shore’ when life is outside their window.  Does this mean I should eat Thai, Italian and Kenyan at the same meal?  Probably not.  But following a different path has never lead anyone to absolute boredom.  (Editor’s note (that’s me): It can lead to a shoddy bar in Laos to spark one hell of a ball tripping experience though)

Cliched photo that looks like it explores an idea.

My next qualm are those who speak of leagues.  There is this underlying thought in some people’s heads that they are playing major leagues whilst the skinny kid who is ordering light beer is still kicking around at Auskick.  Sure, these two people will not be drunkenly dashing for the bedroom together or the local park for a cheeky one at the end of a fascinating evening of self exploration but I do not condone the idea of a league.  The notion of a ‘league’ is potentially the shallowest rule of attraction since some dickhead decided to rule out talking to anyone who combines runners and jeans into one outfit.  Runners and jeans, although not for everyone, are a very comfortable combination that should not result in their automatic social shunning.  I mean, Mila Kunis does it, surely that is enough to convince people of the positive nature of this fashion decision.

Mila rocking a previously inexcusable fashion crime.

There are different perspectives that exist in the idea of a league.  Some folk are low on confidence or have personal hygiene issues and often lament, ‘Dude, she’s out of my league’.  I understand that life is not a Hollywood movie and fat slobs don’t end up with sexy little brunettes unless they have muchos monies or a huge wang but isn’t the problem that we have become so used to avoiding the challenge of stepping up and playing with the big/bigger boys/girls?  It has become ingrained into our system that the more attractive you are, the more choices you have.  Alright, so our lives and imaginations have been dulled by bureaucratic control and alcohol but there is always a niche market.  The funny guy, the quirky girl, the deep thinkers, the politicisers and even the smelly fat guy.

The other side of the coin are those who are in favour of the league system for allowing the choice to look straight through anyone they don’t think is up to their social status whilst ignoring their own issues.  The type that get divorced at 37 after 10 years in a loveless marriage that was stimulated by a mutual love of overpriced restaurants and conversations about how epic the other night was.  The pervading ideology of ‘moving up’ that Henry James wrote about, the ‘stick with your own’ desire, the ‘money equals happiness’ type of person.  Obviously, money is great if it enhances your life.  No one wants to sacrifice all their money for love, no one wants to bring their kids up in poverty, but the idea that money is more important than love and happiness is absolutely preposterous.  We can get sick of the person we married or fell in love with, we can have issues, we can desire a greater meaning but to become so cynical as to genuinely believe that money is the most important thing in life makes me ill.  Maybe I just feel more vulnerable than other people.

I understand that most people don’t want to lose their dignity through rejection just like me but I just don’t think one should be limited from exploring an opportunity through a social barrier that has been imposed via a cultural saturation of Disney movies where the protagonists seem to be ridiculously attractive and the villains are hideous.  Maybe if the attractive prince talk some time out of his busy courting schedule to talk to the hideous witch he would have found out she was deeply passionate about environmental protection and interior design and she wouldn’t have imprisoned his future princess.  To restrict ourselves into a type and a league threatens to deny us a chance to find something that we do not expect.  Something magical.  Or a broken heart and a bottle of gin.

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