The Moaning of Life - Karl Pilkington

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is that good?

      WOMAN: (laughs) I do like that you know that, cos I like animals a lot myself. Did you know that when koalas are born the way they get their gut to digest eucalyptus is by eating their mum’s shit?

      KARL: I haven’t heard that, no . . . I wasn’t aware of that.

      WOMAN: I like facts very much, but I don’t always find that gets me a lot of dates.

      KARL: It’s a start, though.

      WOMAN: I haven’t found it to be a start so far. I was raised with the belief that guys don’t like smart girls. ‘Men don’t make passes at girls with glasses’ and stuff like that.

      KARL: No, that’s a myth. Glasses are like a bit sexy in rude films. There’s always some sort of secretary with glasses on. It’s something to take off, isn’t it?

      The woman who moaned at me earlier came by again. She told me I had good taste but that my brain was soft. I told her she was doing my head in. And, on that note, I left. I still think there’s something in it, though. There’s no point just going for looks, as they change as you get older. You lose them, and your body doesn’t look good forever either. I’m sure I’ve heard that we’re constantly shedding skin and it is totally replaced every seven years. So every seven years you’re a different person. That’s why people get the seven-year itch and stop getting on with their partner – it’s because they’re a different person.

      ARRANGED MARRIAGES

      I left LA and headed to India, where finding somebody to marry is not so complicated. In a lot of cases the parents take control and help you find the right person for you to spend the rest of your life with. People always seem to be well against this idea, saying it should be up to the person to decide who they want to be with, but do we really know what’s best for ourselves? People don’t do anything for themselves any more. They need help from Phil and Kirstie on Relocation, Relocation just to find a bloody house.

      I see this arranged marriage set-up a bit like a set menu in a restaurant – you try something new, as you have no choice, and end up liking it. This was how I ended up trying scallops. We’re sometimes not best left to decide everything for ourselves. There’s a woman in America called Linda Wolfe who’s been married twenty-three times. How mad is that? She could have fed a small village in the Congo if she’d thought to sponsor her walks up the aisle. I can understand making a mistake with one marriage, but twenty-three?! Apparently, two of her husbands were gay and two were homeless. Surely there should be a limit to how many times you’re allowed to get married? I mean, I get locked out of my online bank account after three wrong attempts at a password. Britney Spears got married at the Little White Wedding Chapel I visited in Vegas. Her marriage was annulled fifty-five hours later. Fifty-five hours! I’ve had longer relationships with bottles of milk. The problem these days is nobody works at fixing problems. Whether it’s a relationship or a toaster that’s broken, they just replace it. You’re bound to fall out and have arguments and you should work at getting the relationship back together, but nobody wants to any more.

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      My first stop in India was at A to Z Matchmaking Management to meet Gopal, a marriage broker. Gopal runs a matchmaking service for parents who want to find someone to marry their son or daughter. Seeing as my mam or dad weren’t there, I went to look for myself to see if anything took my fancy.

      As soon as I arrived I had to fill out a form with information about me, and then information about what sort of wife I was looking for. They wanted to know my name, email address, height, weight, exam results, how much I earned, was I a meat-eater, what my mam and dad did for a living. They also wanted to know what my blood type was! What difference does that make? I’ve never heard someone say, ‘I’ve finished with Lesley.’ ‘That’s a shame. Why’s that then?’ ‘Oh, it just wasn’t working out. She didn’t have the right blood.’

      Even though it wasn’t asked on the questionnaire I made a note that I was bald, as I think some women wouldn’t want a bald man and it’s best to be honest from the outset.

      Then I filled in the part about the sort of person I was looking for. A woman, aged between thirty-five and forty-five. Not fussed about exam results, I just want someone with common sense. There’s no point in her having a degree in South American literature if she’s got no common sense. It would be handy if she was good with plumbing or electrics, though, as they’re not my strong points. Height at least five feet five but no more than six feet. Skin type? Just . . . nice. Smooth, I suppose. Don’t want bruised. Jesus, this is how I select a banana.

      I ended up putting ‘skin – not too much’, as this was a polite way of saying I didn’t want a fat lump of flesh. I don’t want someone who’s been married. Non-smoker. She can drink but not too much. I took the questionnaire in to Gopal to input the information into his system.

      GOPAL: So you know the meaning of an arranged marriage?

      KARL: Not fully, no.

      GOPAL: Actually, we seek here destined soulmates, not partners, so we are going to arrange the thing so we have everything that is important. We have to see social, financial, intellectual compatibility of the person and their families also.

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      KARL: Do you think education is important?

      GOPAL: Education is very, very important. Intellectual compatibility should be there, obviously.

      KARL: But it’s funny, with my girlfriend, she is quite intelligent, yet I didn’t do that well at school. But I learn from her.

      GOPAL: Okay.

      KARL: If you put two nutters together, it’s not good, is it?

      GOPAL: It’s not good?

      KARL: I don’t think so. I have changed my ways. I used to be a little bit dodgy when I was younger, but she’s keeping an eye on me and telling me not to do things. It’s interesting how sometimes education isn’t always the key to a relationship.

      GOPAL: Yep.

      I’m not sure he understood what I was getting at. He had hundreds of profiles on his system, so to speed things up he searched in the age category to narrow it down a bit. He read out details like an estate agent telling you about a property. ‘This one just in, fair-skinned, slim, charismatic, fashionable, classy, animated, social, lively, good size. Enjoys reading, current events, world politics, room for improvement.’

      GOPAL: Shoma. She’s a doctor . . .

      KARL: (reading from screen) Softly spoken, nice, slim, smart, sharp features, often mistaken for a student rather than a doctor because of her looks . . . Did you write that or did she tell you to write that?

      GOPAL: No, she has written herself.

      KARL: Umm. Bit big-headed then.

      GOPAL: We match horoscope also. Horoscope matchmaking.

      KARL: No, I don’t believe in all that. Next.

      I wondered if he was trying to palm off some women who had been on his books for ages. Eight or nine profiles later he found Shivani.

      GOPAL: Shivani.

      KARL: Shivani.

      GOPAL: She can marry with British guys. She can go abroad, there is no problem. Everything will suit you, and her parents will permit for you to settle over there . . . Should I show you that profile?

      KARL: Yeah, let’s have a look. (reading from screen) Hmm . . . non-vegetarian, that’s alright. She’s never married.

      GOPAL: Born . . . ’78. Her weight is around 47/48 . . .

      KARL:

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