Ask the Advice Goddess

Transformerly Yours

My boyfriend of four years attended a life-changing seminar where he befriended a woman who happens to be a lesbian. Upon returning, he told me he’d fallen in love with her. They talk on the phone daily. He insists their connection is totally Platonic, and claims being in love isn’t limited to one-on-one. I can’t seem to accept this. Am I wrong to be hurt by his emotional involvement with another woman — even if she is batting for the other team?–Second String

Who says a guy can’t get all his needs met in one place? Just look at the flourishing market for all-in-one tools. A screwdriver isn’t just a screwdriver anymore, but part of a combination screwdriver/nose-hair trimmer/cigarette lighter with karaoke global positioning — which means you’ll not only know where you are when you set your nose hair on fire, but you’ll be able to sing your coordinates to the operator lady at 911.

Then there are those vast cinderblock cathedrals of one-stop shopping — Wal-cos and Costmarts — popping up on every nation-state-sized street corner. Now, there is something strangely exciting about being able to buy your French pastry — by the deeply discounted 12-dozen pack — at the same mega-shoppalopalis that’s rotating your tires. But, once again, just because you can get it all in one place doesn’t mean you should. There’s a very good chance you’ll be eating croissants that go down like old tires, and driving away on tires that roll like old croissants.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. But, supertools and superstores aside, isn’t there one woman who can meet one man’s every need? Sure there is — if the man’s about as complex as plankton. For any man any more advanced, it takes a variety of people — men, women, and perhaps even a hermaphrodite or two. Of course, such men’s girlfriends might be a bit more accommodating of such needs as long they aren’t presented as if they’re the second coming of Romeo and Juliet, with a handy lesbian subtext.

Being accommodating does fly in the face of the traditional approach to relationships: two people coming together to squash themselves into one big couple-zilla — a whole that continuously becomes less and less than the sum of its parts. These people get so caught up in maintaining their democracy of dull — sticking to mutually approved friends and collective activities — that they forget why they got together in the first place: because they found each other individually interesting, not because they were looking to experience being conjoined. Sure, there’s risk in draining the moat around your relationship. But, if you’re with somebody because you truly love them (not just because you feel stupid dining alone), you’ll want them to do whatever it takes to be happy — even if it turns out they’re happiest with someone who is not you.

Love is the element in question here — the element missing in a boyfriend who grooves about self-improvement Sunday the cruel, hostile way. Chances are, you would have been very happy for him (and perhaps personally relieved) if only he’d said something like “I met this great girl I can bore daily with tales of my personal growth!” Instead, he felt compelled to proclaim that he’d “fallen in love,” presenting his friendship with her as a form of relationship rationing for you. What matters now is whether a relationship with a guy this nasty still works for you. Maybe it’s time for a little personal growth of your own. Maybe you’re finally ready for a relationship where partners are both loving and independent. And maybe, once you get your hands on a new boyfriend who’s loving, that’s exactly what you’ll have.

Women On The Flake

I know we’re all busy these days, but I’m having a problem with women who repeatedly cancel dates. I’ll accept one or two cancellations, then politely suggest they call me when they’re free. Only rarely do I hear from them again. How do I ensure I’m eliminating women who’d string me along, and avoid making women who are truly busy feel rejected? –Caller Waiting

“Busy” is what you are when your roommate reminds you that it’s your turn to gas mask up and evacuate the biohazards from the fridge — anything that’s been in there long enough to start evolving legs. “Busy” is what you are not when you learn your roommate’s only joking, and was actually hoping you’d make time to meet his little sister — the one who moonlights as a Playboy centerfold whenever she isn’t body-doubling for Halle Berry. What you need to get from a potential date is her definition of “busy” — simply by asking her, if she claims it’s a bad time, to tell you when, specifically, would be a good one. The second time she fails to propose one is your cue to suggest she call when she’s “free” — whenever she’s done nuclear retrofitting her curling iron.

This article appears in Jan 21-27, 2004.