Monday, August 27, 2007

The empty can rattles the most

Janice: I've got the perfect girl for you!
Jeremy Grey: [sigh] Janice, I apologize to you if I don't seem real eager to jump into a forced awkward intimate situation that people like to call dating. I don't like the feeling. You're sitting there, you're wondering do I have food on my face, am I eating, am I talking too much, are they talking enough, am I interested I'm not really interested, should I play like I'm interested but I'm not that interested but I think she might be interested but do I want to be interested but now she's not interested? So all of the sudden I'm getting, I'm starting to get interested . . . And when am I supposed to kiss her? Do I have to wait for the door cause then it's awkward, it's like well goodnight. Do you do like that ass-out hug? Where you like, you hug each other like this and your ass sticks out cause you're trying not to get too close or do you just go right in and kiss them on the lips or don't kiss them at all? It's very difficult trying to read the situation. And all the while you're just really wondering are we gonna get hopped up enough to make some bad decisions? Perhaps play a little game called "just the tip." Just for a second, just to see how it feels. Or, ouch, ouch you're on my hair.

Here’s a little story for you. It begins the first Friday of this month. My secretary thought I'd be a good match for one of her friends -- Charlotte. Now here’s the thing . . . I have no reason to think my secretary knows what a good match for me would be . . . her perception of me has got to be pretty skewed, but she was so emphatic about Charlotte -- talked her up, described her positively -- the whole enchilada, that I bit. It turns out that Charlotte would be at a happy hour with a bunch of her friends that upcoming Friday and I could just drop in to talk with her, etc.
So as to not be completely awkward before the happy hour, I give her a call on Wednesday. Conversation was a tad stilted, as expected, but not so much so that I lost any sense of enthusiasm that may have existed. I mention that I’m planning to be at the happy hour, and that I’m going to bring my buddy Frankie, if that’s cool too. . . she says sure, the more the merrier, and she asks about Frankie, so I give her the thumbnail sketch of the guy. She says she has a single friend that might be interested in meeting him.

I make it to the happy hour . . . as it turns out, Charlotte was evidently into me, but I was not so much into her. In fact, the whole evening took a turn for the surreal when Frankie and her friend, Becky, really hit it off, keeping us at the bar long after the happy hour crowd had dissipated. I have no poker face, so I suspect my disinterest in Charlotte was tangible, because she called it a night at 10:00 (and I later learned, went to my secretary’s place to watch Zodiac). I hung around a little longer, watched Frankie and Becky get along a bit; excused myself to go puke, as I’d been drinking since 5:00, came back and jabbered a little, and then finally headed home. Missed a booty-call “I’m bored” text message from ubermom at 12:08 because I was well passed out by then, but that’s another story.

Well, now, Frankie’s been seeing Becky since – and I’m learning that Charlotte now hates me. Hates. In fact, she’s been telling Becky she shouldn’t be dating Frankie because – get this – we might all have to go out as a group together eventually. I can’t feature this . . . she’d crater her friend’s potential happiness because of the possibility of social discomfort at some obscure point in the future. Plus, Frankie has found himself making excuses for me as to why I haven’t called Charlotte/why I didn’t show more interest that Friday, etc. And my secretary asked me similar things, but it’s a real easy explanation: I just wasn’t into her. I suppose I could come up with a litany of things I didn't like about her (like her voice) but that just seems unduly cruel. And the thing is, aside from not being into her, I can’t think of anything I did wrong. Chicks reject me all the time – I don’t take it personally. Well, I sort of take it personally, but the not like this. So, anyway, because I have a small tendency toward being a jerk, now I’m looking forward to the next time I see this young lady. I might turn on the charm – just to keep her guessing.

3 comments:

Jamm-o-rama said...

Good story telling! Maybe age has something to do with this kind of stupidity. Boy, rejection can be tough when you're young. Especially when you think you're "all that". Is she a bit younger than you? You will have to tell the story of ubermom license plate, booty-call woman. I'm thinking this could be an interesting one.

Jack Gordon said...

You need to stay tuned for the saga of the ubermom . . . it will be worth the wait. And you hit the nail on the head -- these two girls are STUDENTS, and the happy hour was as post-summer-school-finals happy hour.

Unconscious said...

LOL hell yeah Jack, I am totally down with that. I would! What a bitch. My guess is that she has a ton of self conscious issues, and can only assume "there is somthing wrong with him", if you don't dig her as much as she wanted you to. She can sod off...its obvious she got problems yo, and god only knows we already have enough problems....don't pawn yours on me LOL.