“Come back… Come back…” I whimpered down the phone to Best Mate, who was convulsing in fits of giggles. “Come back, and stop me talking to strange men at parties. Come back.”
“HAH! This is hilarious!”
“Stop it. Stop laughing. This isn’t funny. I’m dating a fucking hippy. My father’s in pharmaceuticals, for fuck’s sake: if he finds out, he’ll disinherit me.”
The somewhat hysterical conversation was provoked by an answerphone message, left by The Voice some minutes earlier:
“Hi, Hannah, it’s TV. Supper tonight sounds like a great idea, but do you mind if we eat a bit later on? I’ll pick you up at half seven, and we’ll go to Reiki first. See you later.”
Oh, we will, will we?!
Having a vague notion of what Reiki constitutes, I made myself a large mug of tea and sat down in front of Wikipedia, fearing the worst. I was right. From the page leapt words such as 'channelling' and 'healing' and 'energy'. That was when I called BM to squeak.
The opinions of others, which – naturally – I've canvassed widely, have fallen into two broad camps. One, alarmingly, has been willing to give the whole bonkers proceeding the time of day.
“Oh, Hannah, that’s fantastic,” said Curable Romantic, for a moment thoroughly undermining all respect I have for her. “What a great idea for a date! Reiki’s amazing – honestly, I’ve had it done.” I love CR to pieces, which is why I had to terminate the conversation then and there, before she started to tell me that my chi was out of whack, or some other brainless nonsense.
The other school of thought is best summed up by a message I received from The Cynic, once I’d told him what new hell my night appeared to have in store:
Sounds like a load of cock to me. Better keep them shut tonight, Hannah. Best not to give him the idea that this is the way to progress the relationship. X
Which is rather a succinct way of expressing my thoughts on the matter. What on God’s green one is wrong with going to a jazz bar; taking a walk in the park; going to a gallery? Holy Manolo: we’ve not even been out to dinner yet. I do feel that these are all Good Things to do on dates before we start to explore the rather quirkier experiences that the ‘Burgh has to offer. And all this is besides the insulting undertone that TV obviously thinks I’m in need of some sort of ‘healing’. Any healing I need I’m capable of retrieving from a packet of Neurofen, thanks very much.
“Oh, have an open mind,” said CR before I put the phone down on her. “You might just get something out of it.”
I have an open mind. It’s perfectly open. It’s just not yet so open that my brains have fallen out.
Tags: Dating, Hippy-drippy mumbo-jumbo clap-trap
“Your task, should you choose to accept it…”
56 minutes ago
15 comments:
Ye-e-es, sister-in-law got into Reiki. She can apparently practise it now. And you don't even have to be with her - she can send the healing to you remotely. B*ll*cks. Nuff said.
The thing I find disturbing about this is not just that he frequents a place like Reiki, but that it apparently didn't even cross his mind that some people (like you) might not have an interest in going there before dinner. Or, you know, ever.
My word on toast. How bizarre!
You could look at him being quirky and quixotic. I don't think anyone would though. Nutjob.
Give it a go, make sure he's a nutter, then run. Sure fire plan!
Hannah, take my advice. Never come anywhere near Amsterdam. The whole city is full of these new age types, chanting their mantras and getting their chi seen to. Whenever I hear the word channeling these days I feel like I want to scream, or at least go and put my head in a bucket of cold water, like Marvin, the paranoid android.
Don't be too hasty... there could be some advantages to an obviously entirely suggestible boyfriend.
"I have an open mind. It’s perfectly open. It’s just not yet so open that my brains have fallen out."
brilliant. do you mind if i use that?
Loth: I'm quite with you. Mental.
J: The thought did cross my mind as to whether he's taken in anything about me at all...
Boy: Hmm. Quirky I can handle. I've handled it before. But nothing like this, ever.
CM: Shudder. There's somewhere not on the To Visit list.
Homer: Huh. Now there's a possibility I'd not considered. I do like your thinking.
CB: Be my guest. Sadly, I can't take credit for it myself. It was said by a chap who used to publish the New York Times.
nevermind the third world mumbo-jumbo, the pertinent thing is how is it poss. for you to regard him with any respect? your friends will say "hannah's slumming". he's a mr collins, he is.
after such knowledge, what confidence?
Pass the burger sauce lady, this hippy guy you're dating isn't a fucking militant vegan is he? Just to compound all the other freaky shit?
Because if he is, then that would a) explain why there has been no dinner date and should b) have you mortally afraid of the day he suggests 'a lovely little place I know'.
Run. Run for the hills. While you still can!
I, frankly, would draw the line at going to a jazz bar, let alone Reiki.
Then again maybe he does that tantric stuff like Sting...
Coffeesnob: What confidence indeed? The Mr Collins analogy makes me decidedly unhappy about the whole situation; I'd even rather a Wickham than a Collins. However, it's a truth universally acknowledged that Darcys are few and far between, if in existence at all.
Ladyshambles: Thankfully not. Although I do wonder what other little treats might be in store if this is one he's reeled out so early on.
Del: Really? Not a jazz fan? And perhaps he does. Now, that's something I could probably get on board with.
not all grim. you, after all, have the advantage over the miss bennetts. you can date. and wickhams, i expect, are perfectly satisfactory dating material. marriage, as we know, is another matter.
you never know when a collins-type is going to unintentionally mortify you in front of friends or family.
jazz is the tops.
I think the second sentence of the wiki article told me all I needed to know about Reiki. The founder received the "gift" after 3 weeks of fasting while sitting on a mountain. So, basically, the guy was delusional; and anyone who thinks this sort of shit works is equally deluded.
I say dump him now, even if that means you can't tell your mum if he's a cavalier or a roundhead!
Good luck in spotting the Mr Darcy amongst all the Mr Arseys. [It's far too cold to be walking out of a lake, so I'm not sure how you'll identify him].
I'm quite into all that hippy claptrap myself, but I definitely don't think on it as a hot date type thing to do.
And this is perhaps a little sexist, but it's less usual for a man to be the one pushing it. When RH was barely able to move with his back at the end of last year, I suggested accupuncture. You'd have throught I'd suggested that the pins would be heated up and inserted directly into his eyeballs.
And I'm with Del - I'd take a shamanistic healing session over a jazz bar any day.
Mmmmm, a distinctly unusual thing for a guy to suggest for a date. Do you think he's genuinely a fan, or just trying to impress?
Either way ... how was it??!!
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