| Everyone
needs a hook. Something that draws people in, holds their attention,
and gives them a reason to want to see you again. Liza has a great
hook: her cleavage. Whenever she goes on a date she wears a low-cut
top. This usually ensures a second date. What's strange is, she
is the first to admit that her biggest insecurity is her body. She
watches what she eats and works out every day so she can look as
good as possible and men will be interested in her. But then, when
they're interested, she worries that it's only because of her body.
The reason she flaunts her cleavage is that
it's something she can count on. Like an insurance policy. No
matter how unfunny or nervous she might be, the cleavage will
pay off. I don't think she needs it, but if it makes her feel
better, why not? Humour is subjective - boobs aren't.
For some people, their hook is their children.
A friend recently began seeing a man who has an adorable five-year-old
son. The son is definitely the selling point. He asks questions
and seems interested in the world - much more than his dad. Plus,
he likes being read to. The problem is, children grow up. So I
predict the relationship has a firm expiry date: his 13th birthday.
That's the problem - a hook has a shelf
life. If your hook is your body, you're in trouble. Liza's cleavage
won't work as well when she's 70. Even if the hook is power, fame
or money, which might not fade, it's dangerous to let them influence
a decision. Who'd want to be stuck with someone powerful, rich
or famous? You still have to talk.
I don't know what my hook is any more. It
used to be my personality. When I was younger, I could be charming
for hours at a time. I could turn it on anywhere. Over the phone,
on a date, at a party - someone once called me "mesmerising"
and they weren't even that drunk.
Now I don't have the patience to be charming
for more than five minutes. I can't be bothered to sell myself
and I'm too lazy to do anything special. Liza will spend half
a day getting ready before going out with someone. If I take a
shower, it's an occasion. I suppose I'm lucky that my physical
appearance was never part of my hook: it means I don't have to
worry about decline.
If I do have a hook, it would most likely
be something I don't do. For instance, I don't break down crying
when talking about my life. Unless I'm at therapy. I don't take
heroin. And I don't whistle. Or maybe it's something I don't have.
How about this: I don't have a family. Who needs another family?
And I don't have any pets. No fish, no family - that has to be
a hook for some people. I could mention that I'm not good in emergency
situations. That's catnip for a co-dependent. That, or I'm really
needy. My hook is for a select few.
Overcoming adversity is a hook. The more
someone has struggled, the more sensitive and interesting they
are. That could be my hook. Except for the "overcoming"
part. I'm still working on that. I'd have to mention that I'm
planning to overcome stuff.
Maybe my hook is not having a hook. If the
purpose is to entice a lingering interest, I could stand out as
the person who doesn't try. That's enough of a reason to see me
again. It's rare to find someone so ambivalent. |