Ever the optimist, Gemma Cartwright discusses why she retains at least some faith in men...
Anyone who frequents public transport will know that the daily commute is a fast track to a bad mood. Yesterday someone stood on my foot (hard! With no apology), I got cut up on the escalators twice and I had a bag rammed into my side for the entire journey to work. All the people responsible for this were women. Just as I was losing faith in humanity, an empty seat appeared in the carriage and instead of jumping in to steal it, the man next to me stepped back and said "would you like to sit down?"
I nearly died of shock as I spluttered my thanks and took the seat. In a city where you can go a whole day without raising a smile from anyone, chivalry - or even just politeness - is hard to find. But I still think it's there if you know where to look...
I think it's unfair to expect every man to be Mr Darcy. It's 2007, and women are just as selfish and ignorant as men, as much as we like to pretend we're angels. I don't expect men to treat me like I'm made of china, just as I don't expect them to get paid more than me for doing the same job. Poor old men (!) are subject to a bit of a double standard sometimes. Women say they want to be independent, but they also want a bit of old-fashioned chivalry every now and then. I can hardly blame blokes for thinking they're fighting a losing battle.
For example, I've always said to friends that I judge a man I'm dating on whether or not he checks I've got home safe. I don't care about going dutch, I don't need to be showered with compliments, I can even deal with him not holding doors open for me (just) so long as he texts me after we've parted ways to make sure I'm safely back home. I don't live in the best area, so even if the guy doesn't want to jump my bones, it's nice to know he doesn't want anyone else to do so on way home.
I also go away quite a lot, which usually involves tackling London's public transport network with a suitcase. Though I know I would wave people away with a "no, I'm fine thanks!" if they did offer to help me get it up the stairs, a little bit of me fumes if the men walking past don't jump to my assistance. Which they never do.
I'm aware that I'm a walking double standard, but I blame my dad. He spoiled me and made me expect the princess treatment for the rest of my life. He's always pushed me to go out there and do my own thing, make my own money and live my life without his help. But the moment I meet him at the station he whips my bags from me and carries them instead. He always holds doors open for me and my mom, he pays for everything when we're out and he's been known to treat me to a box of chocolates or a bottle of wine when I'm feeling down.
...if only I could find a boyfriend who'd do the same!