“Have you seen that episode of Seinfeld before?”
I used to believe in love at first sight. I can remember three specific girls who made me feel like I was getting hit by a train the first time I saw them. I thought I knew it was love because every time I saw them it felt like getting hit by a train again. It even felt like I got hit by a train all of the times all three of them rejected me, too.
When you think about it that way, it makes you wonder if love is supposed to feel like a train wreck at all.
Either way, that’s why I don’t believe in love at first sight anymore. Maybe people who can trust their instincts can have it, but I went 7-24 against the spread in college bowl games this year. I watched the Howard Dean scream as it happened and thought, gee, that guy sure sounds like he has the energy to get this thing back on track. I heard the Spice Girls for the first time on my first trip to London in high school, and was immediately struck by the inferiority of the British taste in music, because Americans would never listen to something as ridiculous as the Spice Girls. It’s not that my first impression is wrong, more that it is spectacularly disastrous.
But if you add a girl, it just gets worse. Take the line integral of the judgement vector field as I approach from infinity to r = 1 meter (assume spherical coordinates, duh) with a girl at the origin (assume the judgement vector field is the gradient of the scalar field of smelling nice) (duh), and either you end up with either a large negative number or a large positive number, but pretend it is large and negative because I’m sure as hell not whipping out a math text right now just so I can make sure I didn’t make a sign error in my multivariate calculus joke. I would also like to note that completing the parenthetic phrase about scalar fields involved leaning back in my chair, tapping my chin, and saying to myself, “What increases near girls?”
That sign issue still bugs me. I can’t even do multivariate calculus anymore. I’m a shell of my former self. All I think I’m good for now are excel spreadsheets and telling stories about girls. Maybe I should try starting one, eventually, here.
So: the most recent time I was absolutely love-at-first-sight obliterated by a girl-train-wreck was when I was working at a restaurant after I had moved back to Virginia from college in Ohio. I had just gotten word that I had been hired on for the cubicle adventure I now enjoy on a weekday-ly basis, and therefore was newly excited to be quickly ending my time as a server, when into the restaurant walked the cutest hostess I had ever seen in my life.
Now, I generally have a soft spot in my heart for hostesses in restaurants because, no matter how bad of a shift I’m having at the restaurant, it only takes ten seconds of flirting with a hostess and suddenly I’m feeling great. I just didn’t anticipate this particular server exploiting, like, 8 other soft spots in my heart at once.
She was tall and slender, with long dark hair, big eyes, and the kind of teeth that are crooked but cute, like Kirsten Dunst’s teeth, but with everything else about her being completely different from Kirsten Dunst, who is not my type at all, which nevertheless didn’t stop me from being convinced slash excited for a solid week in college about the rumor that she was going to enroll at my school (please note paragraph two above re: judgement). She (the hostess, not Kirsten Dunst) was ultra flirty with me, too. Talking to her was like a chemistry experiment exploding. And when she started dropping hints about liking geology and video games, I was done.
Seriously. Relationships work so much better, at least for me, when I am acquainted with a girl, slowly start to appreciate who she is, become attracted more and more, realize how she compliments my personality and I hers, and then finally decide that I can’t stand to be apart. This is how I did it this most recent time, and, I must say, good work, Justin. Gradually, is the thing. That way you get used to how amazing the other person is, in baby steps, and can be rational and not necessarily the apocolypse, or at least not in such large doses.
I ask you: how am I supposed to make any good decisions at all about things to do or say when you spring a tall, brunette, snaggletoothed science girl hostess in a black dress who loves videogames on me for four shifts a week? What do you want from me? If you prick me, do I not bleed? If I meet a pretty dark-haired science major who likes me, will I not somehow awkwardly screw it up?
After flirting my way into dinner with her after one of my final shifts, she asked me if I wanted to take her out for real the following Sunday night.
Now, first of all, hell yes I do. But, look. I’m a laid back cat who is hip to that jive. She jotted me some digits and I figured, whatever, I’ll give her a call eventually, if I even care.
Right.
Two days later, I can’t stand it anymore.
“This is Cute Hostess Girl. Leave a message. I sound high.”
“Hi! This is Justin from work. So, um, we were going to go out right? Sunday! You should call me and we can work it out.”
Another few days pass. It’s like giving a kid a marshmallow but telling him to be patient, it will hop into your mouth when it wants to be eaten. That wasn’t really the image I was going for. That was unintentional. I’m moving on. Another few days pass.
“This is Cute Hostess Girl. Leave a message. I still sound high.”
“Hey, hadn’t heard from you, so I figured I’d call back. This is Justin. From work. So, I think I should pick you up at, like, seven. On Sunday. We are going out, right?”
Sunday arrives. Still nothing. I mean, sure, that’s reasonable. Maybe she just forgot. Twice.
“This is Cute Hostess Girl. Leave a message. I sound like Keanu Reeves on Robitussin.”
“Hey, so, are we going out tonight? Because if not, that’s cool. Totally cool. I mean, you know. I know how it is sometimes.”
Another day passes, making it, yes, Monday. Finally, my phone rings!
“Oh my goodness! Cute Hostess Girl!”
“Hello! Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I was out of town.” By the way, do cute girls go out of town more than other people, or is this just the best way you could think of to reject someone? Seriously, ladies. At least have the decency to be creative. Zombies attacked, your dog turned into an alien from Saturn, you were busy establishing fight clubs around the state. Anything. Then again, technically, the last option counts as “out of town.” That must be it.
To return to the conversation: I’m approximately at the excitement level of an extroverted thirteen year old girl getting her first cell phone, her ears pierced, and a car, all after having fifteen cups of coffee.
“Well that’s an amazing coincidence! Because I’m just now watching the episode of Seinfeld where George leaves all these messages for a girl! He thought she was ignoring him but,” I chuckle affably, “she was out of town! Just like you were. And so he thought she didn’t like him but really she liked him, she was just out of town! Just like you! Have you seen that one? Did you have a good time out of town? What a coincidence! Isn’t that funny? Can you believe it? I sure can’t. Do you like to go out of town? When do you work next?”
Awkward silence on the phone. I can’t overemphasize how not-cool I am sounding at this point. It’s impossible.
Undaunted, like Lewis and Clark, I press onward. “Wow, so, like, when do you want to go out?”
March 14th, 2007 at 11:21 am
“out of town” is definitely the best and easiest way to say “I didn’t feel like calling you back.” As long as town-lines were crossed at some point during that time period, it is not technically a lie. Towns are pretty small… I go through a couple on my way to work…. thus, I am currently out of town.
With cell phones, though… “out of town” has to be either ‘out of the country,’ or ‘my cell phone died and I forgot my charger,’ which is another excuse altogether!
At least she didn’t say “I was washing my hair… for days…”
er, wait… maybe she really was “out of town.” I forgot that you haven’t told the rest of the story yet.
March 14th, 2007 at 11:50 am
I just recently used an “allergic reaction” to get out of a date. While true, I seemingly didn’t survive the reaction because he’s gotten voicemail since then.
In my defense, he wanted to go to a fast food place for a first date…he’s lucky he got an excuse.
March 14th, 2007 at 11:54 am
Maybe Jerry beat her up once.
March 14th, 2007 at 12:36 pm
MJ: I would tell the rest of the story. I started to. But I am not able to be nearly as glowing. Basically it was the most passive-aggressive rejection I’ve ever seen: she kept asking me out on dates, I kept saying, well, okay, she would cancel or flake out and call later and apologize, I would say it’s okay, repeat like 5 times. That’s the basics.
I mean, seriously. I understand letting someone down easy, I get that it’s hard to be mean, and so forth. But if you don’t want to go out, stop asking me out.
March 14th, 2007 at 1:35 pm
What happened to my comment? Hmmm… I said (I think.):
First, I *heart* Seinfeld (AH! That’s it! I got to learn to never EVER use greater-than or less-than signs.) Second, some girls are only in it for being chased, never captured.
March 14th, 2007 at 2:01 pm
I’m pretty sure that I blushed when I read your multivariate calculus joke. Additionally, you LOVED the Spice Girls when we were in London as did I. If loving the Spice Girls is wrong, I don’t want to be right.
March 14th, 2007 at 9:48 pm
I think the most evil thing a girl can do is to send mixed signals. Its like going up to a vending machine because there is a Clark bar inside for 60 cents, and, upon inserting your dollar, it says that “exact change” is needed. I feel like I have more than enough, why won’t you accept me, vending machine? You lured me with your false claims of sweetness…
Actually, that was a completely useless analogy, I just really wanted that Clark bar the other day and can’t stop thinking about it…
March 15th, 2007 at 7:13 am
Justin, why are you giving your heart to the cold-hearted witches? She asks you out then doesn’t return your calls (funny, you’d think if she were going out of town, she would’ve mentioned that to you when she suggested going out) but you still pursue her. I don’t get it. You know how nice guys get frustrated that girls always go for the bad boy who treats them like dirt? Well nice girls have the same question about boys. Why do all the bitches get these nice guys absolutely panting after them when they treat them like shit?!
March 15th, 2007 at 10:12 am
MB: So, to answer your question, I have two points:
1) Yeah, I mean, I talk about it in the post. The few times I feel like I’ve been struck by lightning upon meeting a girl, she turns out to be that type. I mean I guess the point of the post is that I don’t trust getting struck by lightning anymore, which is what you’re trying to convince me of, I think. I’m already convinced, is what I’m saying. The long drawn-out story I tell in my Monday posts is about figuring out where that leads.
I mean, this story above happened 2 years ago and the pursuing lasted 2 weeks. Well, maybe four. But anyway, that’s not so bad. I learned things. I got a blog entry out of it, anyway.
2) But I mean, when it comes to pursuing, I’ve pursued every type of girl. It’s no exclusive thing at all. Cold hearted, sweet, adorable, sexy, you name it, I’ve had a crush on her and probably said an awkward thing. You’ve got to expect that there are going to be disasters in there.
Plus, when it comes to the girls I’ve actually dated longterm, those girls are fantastic human beings as well as being ridiculously attractive and everything else I want. The standards are a lot higher once actual dating starts. Which I think is a good way to do it.
March 15th, 2007 at 10:13 am
Someday I’m going to stop starting every single paragraph with “I mean.” Eventually.
March 15th, 2007 at 11:12 am
Paula Abdul’s “Cold Hearted Snake” has been looping in my brain since reading the post/comments…
March 16th, 2007 at 12:38 am
Actually, I think I’d like to see you not be so bitter about being struck by lightning but maybe tell the lightning not to strike when the object of your affection is going to treat you like dirt.
My main annoyance is that it seems that, yet again, nice guys like you fall for these unappreciative girls and all the rest of the Sisterhood gets completely and utterly ignored. :P
March 18th, 2007 at 5:37 pm
I think we all - by that I mean us guys - have some kind of experience like that. It’s like some embarrassing rite of passage we all have to go through somehow.
March 18th, 2007 at 8:15 pm
Thanks - I added a link to your blog on my site. =)
March 29th, 2007 at 5:11 pm
oh. my. god.
i was reading that, and thinking, “just stop. just stop talking. now. stop. for the love of pete, just STOP TALKING. oh god….”
total train wreck. you poor thing!
and yeah, she’s either ditzy (ie, who forgets they’re going to be out of town on sunday?) or that’s a lame excuse. both signs of immaturity and space cadet tendencies. not good. i’m thinking you didn’t miss much.
BCOL brings up a good point– some girls do just want to be chased. they have low self esteem and get their jollies from being pursued. hate to admit it but it’s true.
and yes, i’m guilty of it, too. no, i’m not proud. and i don’t do it anymore. PROMISE.
Re: being struck by lightning. You don’t trust it anymore. Hmmm….very interesting. i feel we see eye to eye on this issue.
Because after being burned too many times, i no longer fall for the “too good to be true” guys. They like to employ what i call “smoke and mirrors”. they are charming little actors who do/say exactly what will get me to melt, all too much and too soon. their little magic tricks (ie, the smoke and mirrors) distract me from seeing who they really are: total assholes.
eventually, they tire of playing magician, and expose their true selves. that is when i begin to see them for who they really are. and the relationship crumbles. i usually end up hating them. for more info, see: Repo entries on my blog. feel free to compare/contrast February 2006 with early February 2007. BIG difference!
like the old adage says, if it’s too good to be true, it probably is.
March 29th, 2007 at 5:12 pm
one day, i’m going to stop leaving you blog post-length comments. i’m sure you have better things to do………sorry.
June 17th, 2008 at 2:13 am
so did she ever see that episode of seinfeld?
July 4th, 2008 at 10:22 pm
To C: Well, Paula Abdul was never looping in my mind… so I wouldn’t now.
To Justin: Mmm… It’s so odd a girl like that do.. that… Especially after you told her a Seinfeld anecdote. Oo. But, next time don’t use a George one… perhaps a Cosmo one… remember he had that “curse” to attract woman, maybe that’s viral.