Confessions of A Naughty Girl

I Think He's The Fifty! (Give or Take)

Breaking news: There is no "One".

I'm not sure why, but there has been an influx of discussion about "The One" lately...and I'm not talking about Dannielynn Marshall Stern Birkhead's daddy, either.

What is "The One"? It's a contrived falsehood, an urban legend passed down generations, a manipulated statistic that makes those in love feel entitled and those not in love feel wistful and helpless. It is a trite expression we use to differentiate and convey complete infatuation. Yet it takes on a much more profound meaning. We use the phrase "The One" so loosely, we allow it to express something much larger - the potential that we each have to feel a very real, very serious love for another human being.

Well guess what? "The One" does not exist.

I work in a numbers-dominated industry, where manipulated statistics can convince your client to advertise their brand on a used condom, just as long as you can demonstrate that 3,200,000 eyeballs will be viewing that dirty condom, and that aforementioned prophylactic will come to mind the next time they're shopping for mustard, or whatever it is you're selling.

But if you put away your giant Excel spreadsheet with absolute formulas for just a second and bear with me, I'd like to introduce a new, more probably theory to you: "The Fifty, give or take".

I think it's much more realistic to believe that there are fifty right people, or soul mates, or insert your obnoxiously phrased term of your choice here, in the world for one person. We all come into this world with the predetermined number of 50 people who could really rock our world, give or take. I say "give or take" simply because the naysayer in me can't imagine that someone like Richard Simmons has 50 people out there willing to tolerate his terrycloth covered ass, and I also find it hard to believe that someone like Salma Hayek could only have 50 people that would be ready and willing to cater to her every need and love her for the rest of their lives. But if we look beyond the superficial, I'd say roughly 50, give or take.

So with that in mind, those of us who desire a romantic intimacy with another human being run around looking for it, bumping into all sorts of challenges and obstacles that might be in our way. And at the end of the day, if we do what Celine Dion says when she says "Love comes to those who believe it", and we play our cards right, we find someone who enriches our lives and ultimately, makes us feel just a little less alone in the world. Like we have a teammate who will go to bat when we're just a little sick that day, or a little stressed out.

The dating game, the marriage game, and the whole relationship game is built upon the fact that most of us are looking for the same thing. And we all have an equal opportunity of achieving our goal - it's just a matter of timing, and who we get to first.

So even if I do run into Colin Firth, my self-described dream man (and not even necessarily in reality, but at least based on the characters he plays), and Colin is married with a kid (side note: that bitch), maybe I've missed an opportunity...but I do have 49 other guys, give or take, out there who find it adorable that I write down and rehearse difficult conversations, or that I run my fingers through my hair when I'm really nervous. And on the flip side, Colin's found "a fifty". But if his "fifty" goes away or things change, Colin might have 48 other women, give or take, who are happily willing to make a life with him.

Otherwise, how can we explain those who find a significant other after their spouse passes and have equally of a successful relationship? Albeit a different one, but still successful. How do we explain the couples who, much more prevalent in our parents' generation than ours, married their high school sweetheart? Or the kid that pissed in the community pool in 5th grade? Or my parents, who were set up by their younger sisters. I mean, what are the odds that of those, say - 3 million couples - "The One" happened to live right in their backyard?

And yet, we have those who met by complete coincidence - on a flight overseas, or at some shitty bar in Missoula, Montana when neither one of them lived there and they were visiting. Did they really have to put that much into the hands of fate to find someone to spend a life with? Doubtful.

I just believe that when we limit ourselves to bullshit like this, we discourage the entire process. Hearing about "The One" makes me want to stay at home and watch "Gilmore Girls" rerun with a box of Klondike bars. Why? Because I'm a person of faith, but I just can't make the leap knowing that my odds are so slim. However, tell me that I should go out and meet "The Fifty, give or take", and you'd need a GPS tracking system to hunt me down from seeking out all of those opportunities to bump into the faceless guy that I inevitably see coaching our kids at Little League and bitching to me when I come close to food poisoning him in an attempt to cook a romantic dinner and inevitably f*ck it up.

So the next time someone mentions how they knew their husband/ wife/ boyfriend/ girlfriend/ sex toy/dog was "The One", you should politely inform them that you're happy that they've finally found "The Fifty, give or take". And if they start to question your rationale? Just point them in the direction of the used condom.

posted by KA @ 10:14 PM