RACHEL'S COLUMNS

These articles appeared in Rachel's column every Friday in the A3 section of The Age

Boys' own ex-rated guide to healing a broken heart
10th December 2004

My friend Simon is normally the mild mannered epitome of an Aussie bloke. He's happily married and the father of two hyperactive little boys. Last week we met up as we do at regular intervals to shove food into our gobs and share delicious secrets about people we know and create some fiction about people we both dislike. A common enemy is a vital bonding tool; it's the super-glue of friendships.

During these meetings I'm generally the one snapping at everything while Simon expertly tries to unravel the ingredients of whatever he's eating. With every crunch of my molars I slander people as Simon frowns over the mixing and melding of exotic ingredients. Last week while Simon examined his steak with forensic rigor I told him about my latest dating disaster. "So this guy tells me that he thinks I'm intimidating because I'm too smart and guys don't like smart women. What am I supposed to do? Change my name to Bambi and put a smiley face over the letter i?"

Simon looked up from his steak and responded. "It's either chives or some kind of onion-weedy thingy they've put in the sauce – why do you listen to these guys?" Then, without any introduction he announced, "Dimitri broke up with his girlfriend, let's drop in on him and cheer him up."

"Whaddyamean he's broken up with his girlfriend?" I needed more information.
"That's all I know – they had a fight, he asked her to leave, one thing led to another and suddenly he's the lonely guy."
"But what happened exactly? I pleaded.
"I dunno, let's go over and ask him yourself."

Why don't men need to know all the hideous, malicious details? When a woman breaks up she sends out smoke signals and a drum message that vibrates through her entire address book. Women descend on her home with chocolates, alcohol, cigarettes and occasionally porn videos. That's only if she needs total distraction, chocolates are usually enough. By the time these women are knocking on her door they know every bit of the back-story, they feel her heartache and they're primed to help her heal.

To arrive at Dimitri's without the full story felt very wrong! Thankfully one of his oldest friends Shazza, was there and although we'd never met before, as soon as we'd had a few more drinks and sixty seconds alone together, she filled me in on the details. "He wanted babies, she didn't, which is fair enough, but she kept stringing him along." Shazza continued, "And now he's waking up every morning with that horrible thud of fear that it's never going to happen."

Before I could say, you're better off without that skanky ho, but next time find some one who wants the same things , Simon turned into a cave man, commandeered the lolly bowl and started yelling. "You need a shag buddy – plenty of rumpy-pumpy – only way to get over it."
I hit him. "How's he going to learn anything from that?" I said.
"What's to learn? She wants a man with a Porsche and he wants kids and a reality check" Simon said.

They were both way too drunk to grasp the concept of nuance and introspection, but I tried anyway. "It's never that straightforward, forget the big picture and examine the details, look for clues, seek and ye shall find," I said.

"That's what I said, find someone and go the shag-fest!" Simon moaned, offering me the lolly bowl, but not letting go of it. At this point, Dimitri stumbled over to Simon and tried to take the lolly bowl from him.

"You've had enough mate, c'mon – you'll hate yourself in the morning, you've just lost a heap of weight – you don't want to go there again." Simon handed it over.

This exchange was important, riddled with poignancy and information about these two very real men. Dimitri was hurting, at this stage he was still genuinely shell-shocked by the break-up. But not so self-centered to allow his friend, who'd suggested we visit to cheer him up, to compromise a recent effort to shed some kilos. Are men so different to women? I don't think so.

P.S. Dimitri did go the shagfest route, but he tells me it only made him feel worse-yeah right!