Monday 2 August 2010

Chivalrous or chauvinist?

Many moons ago, when I embarked on an expeditionary trip to the New Planet, I encountered something I'd not seen much of on the Southernmost Colony. I'm not talking about the mountains of steps leading out of the underground, although there are none of those on the Southernmost Colony, but the men that helped me lug my over-packed suitcase with wonky wheels up said steps, without so much as a, "Jeez, you wouldn't look very good in a bikini,' look on their faces.

Now to explain. I was friends with a beautiful woman back on the Southernmost Colony. The man-walks-into-a-lamp-post kind of beautiful. The kind of beautiful where every other woman within a five mile radius of her becomes invisible, because her beauty is not only skin deep but extends into her soul. And I was quite accustomed to being invisible. 'Ag shame!' I hear you cry, but no, that's not the point. The point is we all feel invisible from time to time, and we all know what it's like to be ignored by strangers who are so busy gawping at your friend that you don't even factor into the conversation.

And then I came to reconnoitre the New Planet, without my beloved friend. It must be something to do with the type of man I encountered here that made the difference. For there seemed to be a chivalrous streak within them that I personally found sadly lacking in the males on my home planet, who were more concerned about the size of my bra than the size of my intellect....or that's how it seemed to me. I can honestly say that not one man there (who wasn't a friend) ever offered to help me out in a jam. My beautiful friend, on the other hand, had men falling over their own feet to help her out. Attention that I don't think was always welcome. But when I and my suitcase fell out of the tube at Paddington Station, more than one gentleman helped me up and assisted me in carrying the offending case up the stairs. It happened more than once, actually and so the memory of this chivalry stayed with me for a long time.

Then I came to reside on the New Planet, and imagine my dismay when I discovered that men who behaved in a chivalrous manner were now accused of being chauvinists for daring to open a door or pull out a chair or allow a woman to enter a room first. Well, I confess, that having a man behave in this way does NOT make me feel like a second-rate citizen. Yes, I am perfectly capable of opening a door myself, but I rather like it when a gentleman does so for me. I can hear the feminists out there shrieking in dismay. Tough. I like it.

And more annoying than the feminists who object to mere men daring to assist them or behave politely, is the fact that I have observed it is mainly the old men, those older than sixty, who still think it is their duty to behave like a knight in shining armour, whereas the younger men seem to have descended the evolutionary ladder and become pushing, grunting beasts with no care about the 'weaker sex', not that I in any way consider myself weak. A very dear octogenarian friend, was telling me last week how he recently opened a door for a young woman struggling with shopping bags and a toddler,and she turned to him in a fury and remarked, 'I am perfectly capable of opening a door on my own, thank you!' to which he replied, 'And I am perfectly incapable of not opening it for you.'

Another thing I have observed of late, is that now, when I go out with another friend who is approaching eighty (I do have an awful number of very old friends I confess) I have noticed that now it is her who is invisible. When we are in a restaurant or pub or the garage, younger men tend to talk directly to me, avoid looking at her and act as if she's not there. I wonder if she notices? It is something I suddenly realised last week when we took her tyre in to the garage and the 'man' spoke to me, telling me what he would do, how much it would cost etc, and pretty much acted like she was a senile old dear that couldn't possibly understand what he was on about.

No doubt the time will come when I once more become invisible, but for now, I quite like being spoken to as if I'm not an idiot, or treated like I don't exist because I am not endowed with physical beauty or have a creased face and crooked back. I do wish there were more chivalrous men out there, just to balance the inordinate number of chauvinists that lurch about in pubs and shopping centres ignoring those that are precious, just because they do not live up to some unachievable standard of beauty or have skin that doesn't quite fit any more and walk with a stick. Come on, you men! It's time to remount your white steed (or white Skoda) and rescue a few damsels, even if they don't want to be rescued.