Just watched an old Doris Day movie called "With Six, You Get Egg Roll". Ah Doris, the epitome of the swinging single girl in the sixties. Here she is, a poor widow with three boys, bravely running the highly successful lumberyard her dead husband left for her. Between the work and the kids, poor Doris claims that she doesn't need a man, but her meddling sister intervenes.
Of course, when "the man" arrives at the dinner party, Doris' wig is still in the oven (her hair dryer was broken), she has her hair in some sort of freak bonnet and cold cream on her face. But of course, he's smitten at her carefree attitude. The party is filled with terribly boring people and with her wacky housekeeper running back and forth complaining, she and Jake never get to speak. He makes a flimsy excuse about picking up someone at the airport and leaves. Poor Doris slugs on through the party. As the last person is leaving, the maid announces that there is no milk or bread for the children in the morning, so Doris has to go to the store. At 2 a.m.
Cue music: At the store is Jake, sees her first and attempts to avoid her. She casually strolls by, states "You have 48 seconds to get to the airport" and he's in love. Terrible love, tragic, must have you this very second love. They are married in the next ten minutes of the film. If you saw "Your's, Mine and Ours", you know what happens next, but that doesn't matter.
This stuff doesn't happen in real life - if it did, we'd all be married. I meet you, you hate me, we bump into each other again, BAM; we're married.
Teams of scientists have worked on this particular problem, it remains to be solved. Seems that in the sixties, all you had to be was a widow with kids and you were prime meat for bachelors, with or without their own kids. Now, you could be 112lbs, standing in the store stark naked with a steak in one hand and a martini in the other and he'd be talking on his cellphone, oblivious to your charms.
And they say we women have it easier these days. I beg to differ.