Across the animal kingdom, females often resist male advances and only a small fraction of mating attempts are successful.
Never is this more true than in the online dating world, where introductions start out so prettily but can end in a naturalist’s nightmare. Mr. “Looking for Love 52” turns out to be looking for something somewhat less. The guys who want to go for walks on the beach are using code words for, “I’m broke and sure hope you have a car”. And “looking for a soulmate” means “my lease is up and I need somewhere to live, preferably with a laundry”.
I just don’t think we’ve got the dating thing down right yet. We haven’t moved on from the creepy crawly stage.
The female Evarcha Culcivora, otherwise known as the tourism destroying “blood gorging jumping spider” of East Africa, prefers to date big male spiders, who may devour her, before settling for a smaller guy.
Human women still go after the big bad boys, ignoring the gentler, kinder, good provider types. Show me a guy with no visible means of support and a fast car, and my heart speeds up. Maybe it’s the fight or flight reflex, but it sure feels like falling in love.
Female mice chase male mice they know are already taken. Female humans chase Johnny Depp.
And once a woman gets her mate? We tear their heads off, like praying mantises. Praying Mantis males apparently don’t like being consumed after being mated with. I’d like to see those survey results. They are probably relieved they don’t have to support all 1500 little ones as they hatch.
Men are worse. They chase the elusive “babe”, ignoring the rest of us. Male fruit flies mate with big beautiful female fruit flies over and over, wearing them out and producing poor wee babies, wrapped in rags. The smaller fruit flies hang about, waiting to be asked for a dance and weeping into their bananas.
When males chase, they are inexhaustible. Females have to develop special techniques to repel them. The inflatable cane toad puffs herself up to push off any mates that don’t fit her requirements. I’m using that as my excuse for weight gain while married.
As an over 50 woman, gravity has deflated what used to be attractive, and I remain inflated. Time in the gym to work on the inflation just seems to shift everything to my ankles, where it puddles.
The males still pursue, and predators hang out at any singles dance. When online, I get instant messages from spiders much too young to be out at night. Makes me long for a nice, crunchy Praying Mantis.