The West is Just Not That Into You?

When I was in Beijing – one year prior to the Olympics – I read an editorial in an expat magazine that compared the big event to the third date between two people. The third date is that deciding time when you find out whether there will be sex, and whether things have the potential of progressing into a relationship of sorts. You have already made it through the first two awkward-ness filled dinners, and now, if you can just go through another evening without screwing up in a major way, you might just get what you’ve been waiting for.

China’s that worried girl who’s trying really hard to make it happen; she really likes the guy. She’s been waiting for this for a long time. She’s picking out the perfect outfit, going to the salon for a bit of a twist to her usual heaircut, and trying hard to cover up that one pimple that’s annoyingly come up just days before the big date (yeah yeah, the pimple’s been re-appearing in the same spot since she was 13, but she wasn’t expecting it to come now!). She’s nervous, and all the concealer in the world isn’t making the zit go away.

The West is that laid-back guy who is still trying to reconcile whether he’s too hot for China. Is he out of her league? Yeah, it’s sex, but what if it’s bad? Is he allowed to jump out of bed and run to Vancouver – that hottie who’s already ‘in’ with his circle of friends? Importantly, what’s his reputation going to turn into after it happens and people find out? He thinks that China’s exciting, and new, and she has this intriguing beauty that makes things kind of stir in his pants. She was nice enough on the first two dates, and he was actually looking forward to that third one. But he saw her briefly outside the window of his energy-efficient sedan the other day, and there it was. The pimple. It bothers him a little, the bugger. Of course, he’s known her for years, and the pimple’s nothing new, really. He’s seen it appear and disappear and appear and disappear again… But, damn, it’s really bothering him now.

He’s reconsidering. He’s now become the guy that all girls despise – the guy who suddenly has to let her know that he’s ‘not sure that he wants a relationship.’ That guy. He’s not sure he really wants commitment. China’s fuming, because, what does that even mean? Does that mean he never really liked her that much from the beginning? Does the pimple show that all he ever cared about is looks, and now that hers is there he’s never going to treat her the same way again? She’s been planning this date for ages, and she’s financially and emotionally invested in it. She knows the boy has had pimples in the past – she’s known him for as long as he’s known her. He’s too good to admit it, though. ‘Acne is soooo… wrong,’ the boy thinks, conveniently forgetting about that annoying little whitehead on his back that’s shaped like a bay on the coast of an island.

Perhaps he needs to reconsider this whole thing; wait for a while until she gets a little older and deals with the acne, and then he can be okay with being seen with her in public. The chick’s got potential, after all.