The singles scene is a nightmare. People have a hard enough time committing themselves to a second date, much less a legal coupling that might drag itself out for a couple of years. If you can't even fork over your weekend schedule without suffering pangs of regret, the chances of your ever getting married are probably pretty slim.
Americans aren't completely cold-hearted. Many still experience the occasional giddy impulse to do something wild. But they struggle when it comes to being romantic. Their heads may swim and their hearts pound like everybody else's when they fall, but this is as much a panic attack as anything more rhapsodic. "She's the most wonderful person I've ever met in my life!" they'll think. "I wonder what she's trying to get out of me?" "She makes me really happy!" others might exude. "How long until it all comes crashing down around me?"
This is the sort of insecurity that has kept the commercial sector fat and happy for years. Lawyers, plastic surgeons, aerobics instructors and motivational speakers are all thriving species today, thanks to the basic American belief that pain and vulnerability are worth avoiding at all costs. This is fine if you've got the funds, I suppose -- break my heart and you'll be seeing me in court, buddy -- but for lesser citizens, all this manic drive for emotional insurance adds up to is lots of talking. Negotiations can be substituted for virtually any demonstrative act known to humanity, and most people have a virtually inexhaustible supply of debates. There's none of that inconvenience of heading to the bedroom and dimming the lights -- talks can be conducted in any forum and essentially around the clock, with brief time out for working, sleeping and going to see movies where other people talk about their relationships. And if you can't be together, there's always the telephone and e-mail.
This would all be fine in a more eloquent world, but once you've listened in on some of these conversations, you begin to think you might be better off zipping back to Moscow and hitching up with the first Vasya you see. Sure, he might grunt when you bat your eyelashes, but you'll probably never catch him saying things like, "I really enjoy spending time with you, but at this point I'm just not prepared to say whether I can have dinner with you tonight," or "I'll have to see a resume and a list of financial holdings before I can determine to what degree you are using this affectionate front to gouge me of my wealth and social standing."
A veritable lovers' paradise, America. When's the next flight out?
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