The Chase

 

Tales as old as time, tell of fine princes on horses pursuing damsels in distress. Men like the chase we’re told. They used to be cave men you see, and had to hunt things. We women are like modern day deer. So be all doe eyed, demurely frollicking in some shrubs waiting (but not waiting) for that modern day cave man to come pursue you.

Play hard to get. But be warm, friendly and approachable. Remain marginally out of their reach, but also be flirty and fun. It’s a difficult act to master, and a fine line to balance. If it was a maths equation the calculus would look roughly like this:

y(2×4+y)dydx=(1−4xy2)x2

Maths was never really my thing. What about girls who enjoy an element of chasing themselves? Yes, despite prehistoric tales of manly cave men, the hunt can go both ways. A man coming on too strong too quickly can be a massive turn off and frankly just a little bit creepy.

If a man pursues me before a seed of interest has sparked he has no hope. The more adamantly he pursues, the more vehemently my disinterest grows. My friend has a technical term for this feeling: the ick. It’s that feeling where you stomach drops, and you feel physically nauseous at the sight of someone. This aloof response could be mistaken for a doe eyed deer playing the game, yet it’s a fatal presumption to make.

Refer back to Doe the deer in paragraph one. A smarter hunter will wait until the deer flashes a knowing glance or slight smile before going in for the kill. The smart deer will have mastered the art of appearing to be chased, unbeknownst to the hunter it’s part of their devious plan.

I pose the question, who therefore holds the power in this equation? The hunter or the deer? Surely the pull dynamic is mirrored equally by both parties.

Many* a men have been surveyed to determine men’s feelings on women asking them on dates. It seems like men don’t really mind, though I have my suspicions they prefer to at least believe they were in the position of power.

Once I read something that said, yes in today’s modern world women can chase men, but if they do they will never really know how he actually felt. They took away the moment when he was able to show initiative and indicate his true feelings. I think this holds a lot of truth. Unfortunately patience is not my greatest strength.

I once asked a man out on a date. Once being emphasised. Not like a tinder chatter, but a real man from the real world. On an actual date. Out of the blue. I got a wishy washy answer that was not to my liking. Six months later he indicated interest. By this point I was on the other side of the world. Standard.

It reminds me of the book my mum brought me before I first went travelling. He’s just no that into you. I think it scarred me for many a years, until a fairy godfather spoke to me.

I was on a TV commercial shoot in New Zealand, when the big fancy international Director was like, “Kesha, can I ask you something? Do you have a partner?”

Taken by surprise, I was like “Errr.. No…?”

“Let me give you a piece of advice. It’s best advice anyone ever gave me. When you meet someone, and feel that mutual spark you need to trust it. Know that the other person is feeling it too. What happens from there is more a reflection of the place they are at in life than of you.”

This little gem of insight really flipped the way I looked at attraction on it’s head.

He continued. “When I met my wife, it just felt different. Before I’d always wanted to spend more time with the person or felt like I should. But for the first time I actually wanted to. Something had changed.” For the record, his wife had first expressed interest in him, yet it was only a year or so later when her saw her in this different light. Duly noted.

I couldn’t help but wonder what had inspired him to share this titbit of wisdom with me. Had he seen me swooning over what was clearly a not so subtle on set crush?

I caught John Snow* looking at me a few times, then he sauntered right up to me and confidently proclaimed “I’ve met you before.”

“Hmmm, no don’t think so.”

“I definitely have.”

I disagreed. I didn’t tell him it was because he was so hot I definitely would’ve remembered him if I had.

The next day he waltz up looking rather chuffed. “I figured it out. You were Joffery’s* girlfriend. I met you when you were living in Wellington when he was on the Hobbit.”

“Oh.”

I have to say I was impressed that loved up coupled up Kesha was immune to the charm of such a handsome man. He hadn’t even made it into the memory bank. Wow.

Over the next few days he was forever sidling up to me to chat. He was one of the most charismatic men I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. He had this way of extracting stories from my lips, always managing to twist my words so everything sounded sexually charged. I blushed so many shades of crimson. It was infuriating.

Yet at the end of the shoot nothing happened. We messaged slightly, but he wasn’t driving it towards anything. He always messaged at strange times of the day. A wise friend familiar with the ways of the world told me he had a girlfriend. Her prediction was of course true. And yet there was a lesson to be learnt from the Director and Mr Snow.

I wasn’t afraid of rejection anymore. If I liked someone and sensed the feeling was mutual I no longer questioned if they liked me. It was obvious they liked me. It merely came down to what they wanted, and the place they were at in life. I could be more straight forward, and then see what their move was. It was empowering.

Maybe the chase is less linear then originally perceived. I think the idea of a man reeling a woman in like a fishing line is direly boring not only to women, but men also. Perhaps the chase is more like an intricate dance. Take any sensual dance like tango or Bachata, it’s always based on a mutual dynamic between the two. Coming close, and pulling away. Both equally footed, and both confidentially assured. Seduction perhaps mirrors intimacy itself.

If go back to the original premise of the chase, we have our prince and our damsel. She’s sitting a top the castle idly plaiting her hair. A strapping young prince catches her eye. She flashes him her winning smile. Smitten he yells out. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel let down your golden hair!” I think the actual power, initially at least, comes from our fair lady. She is the one who determines if she desires to be chased, what the prince decides to do well that is another story.

*subject to creative hyperbole

Viking Hunters

We journeyed far and wide, across many an ocean to Iceland in search of their infamous Vikings.

There’s something about the urban myth of tall, manly, blonde, bearded men that makes a girl swoon.

Viking explorers were said to have settled in Iceland in the late 9th Century. But were they still lingering about?

And thus, two Kiwis quest to find Vikings begins – of course at a bar in Reykjavik. We eye the swarms of modern day bearded men with curiosity.

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“Are you a Viking?” my friend Michaela asks the older bearded man seated beside us.

“Yes, of course” he slurs in a thick Icelandic accent emphasised by his drunkenness. So far, living up to the reputation.

He insists on buying us multiple shots of Icelandic Schnapps the true Viking liquor.

Michaela notices that our beautiful bearded barman is in fact pouring shots of Jim Bean and Vodka. Viking credibility is deteriorating rapidly.

We get one over him by convincing him I am in fact Keisha Castle Hughes New Zealand’s infamous Whale Rider. They eat whale in Iceland, so he has no issues with animal riding ethics.

We stealthily slip away to the other side of the bar to research the younger Norsemen.

They’re not overly tall, slim bordering on skinny, and don tight jeans, beards and lush long locks that give me hair envy.

These urban Vikings are surprisingly Hipster, straight out of a cool cafe that serves on point espresso.

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Michaela interviewing a Cafe Viking

We befriend a Norwegian Viking, he’s a brunette not a blonde but has the beard and hair down pact. We even convince him to get into costume for the cause.

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A modern day Norwegian Viking

He displays a natural talent for finding hot springs which seems like a useful Viking skill. We document our findings happily over champagne, but are determined there must be Icelandic Vikings lurking in the wilderness.

pools

We enlist the help of another huntress, Nicki from Seattle who embarks with us on the Viking road trip quest.

We circumnavigate Iceland over five days. We drive the Southern coast, the Eastern Fjords, through the Snowy mountains and the Northern highlands. We leave no waterfall, beach, glacier or hot pool unturned.

We even scour an old Viking village.

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And yet, there seems to be a severe shortage of not only Vikings but people in general. We are shocked to learn there are only 3.2 people per square kilometre. That’s even less than our beloved New Zealand deemed the Iceland of the South by locals.

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Maybe we’d be better off searching for Huldufolk – the hidden people. Better known as Elves, it’s claimed 80% of the population believe in them.

The Huldufolk are known for their environmental lobbyist stance, they whisper in the ears of influential individuals and have been said to help drastically reduce construction in Iceland.

I’m not sure Elves are quite a sexy as Vikings. Although no doubt we could be swayed. Time to head to the local cafe in search of urban Hipster Elves.

Ororlando