— A Story of Female Hypergamy—
I’d like you to meet my friend Stacy.
Stacy is what you might call your “average” North American girl.
She has big dreams for herself, including a long healthy life, a happy family, a supportive husband, a comfortable lifestyle, and hopefully to have some fun along the way.
Stacy has always been the do-gooder; the sensible one, the daughter any parent would be proud of. She went to Sunday mass every week with her parents, and volunteered at the community center after school three times a week.
She got straight “A’s” throughout high school, except in Geography class where she got a “B”, was the captain of the school dance team, along with President of Student Council. She got accepted to all 20 colleges that she applied to, and had a really great experience at the one she finally chose.
Another shining example of the North American Dream….
Stacy’s favorite movie is Leap Year; a romantic comedy, like all generic romcoms, that say to women that marriage is the end all and be all of life, and will fix all your problems as a person whilst making you whole, and that everything will be OK after the fact. Plus, getting married prevents being ostracized; by society, workforce pay raises, and especially by all your other married friends and family members.
It is the highest form of groupthink.
It’s all extremely inspiring……and creepy, like some sort of cult.
However, Stacy had found that one guy that most girls will never have. It wasn’t until her fourth year at law school when Stacy met her “true love”, “the one”,Bob. Unbenounced to her, she was set-up by a mutual friend (Robin) between the two of them who invited both her and Bob to a St. Patrick’s Day Kegger.
Stacy had always been the reserved one around men, the girl that always listened to her mom about them; and how all they wanted to do was to pick open that treasure box between her legs.
“If a lock can be opened by only one key, then it’s a good lock. If a lock can be opened by many keys, then well…it’s a pretty shitty lock” is what Stacy’s mom always lectured to her. Basically telling Stacy to ignore her natural biological urges to mate with the best and most dominant out of the gene pool, and wait for some stable poindexter with a closet full of Dockers and a managerial job to support her and her presumed future offspring.
Nonetheless, there was something that separated Bob from the rest of all the Jagoffs Stacy came across during her campus prowling; something different, something solid, and maybe even a bit adventurous.
Bob made Stacy feel safe, comfortable, and relaxed about life and all the confusion that comes with being young and inexperienced.Above all, Bob could make Stacy laugh. The kind of laughter that makes you snort, and feel like Rose from Titanic; having you’re insides crushed by a corset.
Bob and Stacy met by the keg at the party where Stacy accidentally spilled Bob’s Pabst Blue Ribbon all over his leather jacket.
“Don’t worry, it’s just Pabst,” Bob exclaimed over the loud speakers that were blaring out Closer by Tegan and Sara.
“It’s like spilling expensive water,” he finished with a boyish smirk.
Stacy then caught herself giggling as if she were a teen who just saw her first dick on late night HBO. They then both began to share their thoughts on the party, along with their mutual disdain for shitty pedestrian beers.
It wasn’t until Hey Jealously by the Gin Blossoms started playing (Coincidentally both their favorite song) that Stacy starting feeling strange, in a good way:
Was it the way Bob confidently put his hand on the small of her back? his glimmering smile and boyish charm? the alcohol? Or the way in which music from our childhood instils a sense of familiarity and innocence?
Regardless, Stacy had never felt such a sudden rush of cosmic electricity.
It was as if neon colored lights of ecstasy were running through her head, past her core, and escaping out through her fingers and toes.
After much dancing; and after one of Bob’s quirky funny questions about if she ever thought Ric Ocasek from The Cars was an attractive guy, or if her mom’s real name was Rachel, Stacy decided to do the opposite of what she normally did.
She decided,not only to roll her body onto Bob, but also the dice on life.
They both played roulette that evening. Not the kind you play at the fancy Casino with $15 Clamato Caesars off Figueroa and Sunset Boulevard, but rather the kind they played on Stacy’s bed. It was a crisp spring night with a quarter moon, and like two starved hyenas, the fevered frenzy on each others bodies was over just as quick as it started.
Bob may not have been the marathon runner in the bedroom that night -more like a 100 m sprinter-, but Stacy didn’t care.
It was all new to her, and oh so exciting.
Was it the new intense feelings from a concentrated dopamine release?
Or was it love?
Who really cares.
This isn’t a lecture on human biology in an underfunded highschool science class.
Either way, Stacy was happy, and couldn’t imagine someone else making her feel this way. Stacy, after all those years, finally understood what that song Laid by James meant.
At that in itself, is priceless.
This week Stacy turned 27, her life is just getting started. She has so much to look forward to. Her and Bob just celebrated their fourth year of marriage; they now have two kids, a dog, a nice house with a white picket fence, and a tire swing in the front yard.
Recently, Stacy has just been hired at the new law firm (Hammershmitz & Atwood’s) as a paralegal where she works long boring and tedious hours around testosterone fueled Alpha males dressed in Vera Wang’s finest.
Stacy will put up with the borderline harassment and warehouse comments by all the male Lawyers, for now.
After all, the pay is good.
More importantly, the benefits she receives will help with a second income to Bob’s in order to support the ability to pay for the babysitting, new iphones, restaurant dinners, the trips to Tuscany and Carnival cruises that will never happen, their mortgage, and the gym memberships that will eventually go un-used.
After all, this is just stepping stone for Stacy’s career; a notch on her business card, and the first step towards her dream of opening up her own law firm where she will specialize in family law and human rights cases.
Everything seems to be on track for Stacy… like a yuppie married Erin Brockavich.
What could possibly go wrong you ask?
Well, what Stacy doesn’t understand, or see on the horizon, is that society today is designed to grind her down. For the first time in history we live in a world with constant stimulation, contradictory messages, and expectations.
Everything is go-go-go, rush here, do this and that; there is barley anytime for Stacy to just sit and think, let alone be by herself and take a look at her life to see if it is what she really wants.
Did she use her twenties to explore, try new things and understand herself as a person better? Was marrying young a mistake? Did she rush life before even beginning to live it for herself?
Stacy lives in an age where everything is done for her by technology, yet, life seems more complicated and confusing than ever before.
Ad’s from magazines off of Stacy’s i phone tell her all her problems and flaws as a person, and how she should fix them. She lives in a society in which she can throw away things the moment they stop working for her, because she can just get a new version/upgrade: Consumerism of products and people.
Stacy and Bob still have the time though once a week to have their post Grey’s Anatomy sex. It’s not anywhere near the level of an epic 80’s guitar solo –like something out of a Glass Tiger music video-, it’s more like a generic top 40 pop song, that gets the job done.
Of course, Bob and Stacy didn’t see this coming. It’s not their fault that most of all the movies, T.V shows, magazines and other mediums that they saw forgot to mention the reality of this dream put before them. Not even the parents of Bob and Stacy’s mentioned to them that it would be like this; as if it were some sort of tribal secret amongst married people not to discuss the 24/7 hostage situation that takes place behind the scenes every day in their homes.
“Don’t worry sweetie, it gets better with time, promise!,” said her friend Robin (the one who set them up)
As if trying to say that Stockholm syndrome will soon set in at age 40.
Things don’t get better for Bob and Stacy sadly….
Between Stacy working late all the time at Hammershmitz & Atwood’s, and Bob going on business trips to Colorado to craft mission statements and do team building exercises (getting drunk and eating butter-chicken with co-workers), a void begins to manifest between Bob and Stacy.
The intimacy between the two of them slowly begins to fade like the colors on your favorite childhood shirt after years of it being put through the wash. And like most men in North America, Bob starts to resort to internet porn, and thus develops an unhealthy addiction to the instant gratification that it provides.
Stacy begins to fill the emptiness with shoe shopping, Jersey Shore marathons, and pills of Zoloft to counter her own depression. However, she does take up gardening; as a sort of meditation and escape from the grind of her job, obligations, and her now virtually sexless marriage.
Anyways, one day while Bob is off for the weekend in Denver Colorado eating
culturally diverse foods and crafting mission-statements, Stacey has been
thinking about calling back that funny young waiter boy who served them
at Denny’s awhile back.
He’d slipped her his number on the back of the bill right under
Bob’s nose, saying that they were into similar kinds of gardening.
At first it seemed strange to Stacy that he would be the type of guy who would be into that sort of hobby. But really, he seemed to have good intentions, plus he was charmingly handsome and friendly.
Stacy called up her waiter boy friend after reading an article titled 5 Ways to Have Mind Blowing Sex with Your Man in the latest Cosmo addition she picked up at Publix on her way out from the check-out counter.
She arrived at his place. They had a few laughs and a few drinks….
Things got a little playful, and the next thing you know Stacy is on her back (and various other positions she didn’t know about) getting that awesome sex that Cosmo magazine was talking about from none other than, Mr.Denny’s.
Somehow… it just happens.
This makes Stacy feel extremely guilty, and she is very distant from Bob when he gets off his evening Delta flight from Denver.
Bob then gets even more cranky and frustrated without his post-Grey’s Anatomy Sex, which pushes Stacy more towards Mr.Denny’s which causes her to keep getting that awesome rush and dopamine release along with the physical and emotional intimacy that Bob hasn’t given Stacy in years since their first night together.
Was it the way Mr.Denny’s reminded her of when Bob used to be that refreshing surprise? The man who made her laugh and feel wanted? Or was it because over time our bodies’ chemicals and pheromones get accustomed to one another’s causing a decrease in the sensations; like how an addict gets num to the very first high the moment he/she has experienced it. It can never be duplicated with that same drug anymore.
Who really knows? We are just observers of reality.
After the divorce, Bob and Stacy go their separate ways. And given the tilted balance of North American divorce laws; Stacy gets the kids, the house, and half of Bob’s salary to which he worked his whole life for.
If Bob only understood that in today’s society getting married is the equivalent of walking into a casino: putting your house, half your salary, the kids, and any shred of dignity all on red; and spinning.
Stacy will never admit to her friends, family or Bob for that matter, that some days she will just drive around aimlessly through the city listening to the Gin Blossoms on repeat. thinking to herself:
“We’re we meant to live like this?”
“Is this even natural what we are doing to ourselves?”
Then suddenly, the song New Solution by Shirock blasted over her radio.And everything then just made sense: An epiphany of the highest order. She felt that feeling she had long ago, that electric neon ecstasy running through her.
Was it because the song by Shirock is an Anthemic and ear-gasmic masterpiece?
Or was it because for the first time in her life, Stacy, just had an original thought; a thought of her own.
Stacy, like most her generation, were taught that when they were young and afraid at night, it was best to just close their eyes until the monsters went away. If only she was taught to face those monsters as soon as they emerged from her closet, then maybe, just maybe, her and Bob could have had a chance. If only they had the time, the energy and the courage to communicate to each other what was wrong instead of closing their eyes.
Oh well, at least Bob and Stacy will always have the Gin Blossoms to brighten up their days.