Warning: This post contains love poetry. Please do not read without adult supervision.
Part 3, Chapter 14
“Justin, I can’t begin to describe how drunk I was…”
“Don’t even worry about it.”
“You think I’m dreadful. I’m so sorry for behaving like that.”
“Quiet. Listen: I have a few thoughts about the other night. I’ll write you a haiku.”
“Okay!”
The thing was, I absolutely and without reservation loved the hell out of that girl, but it just wasn’t that simple. There were complicated layers, like a well-made bed where someone had had a particularly violent nightmare. I felt like an uneducated heathen, clumsily hashing out emotions over AOL Instant Messanger while she was drunk and distracted by a passed out friend. You are supposed to do these things with poetry and flowers, right? So, with a concession to the global imbalance of labor conditions perpetuated by the flower trade, that’s exactly what I decided to do.
On the following Tuesday morning, a cute girl I vaguely knew waved at me in the science atrium as I was walking through. “Hey, Justin, what’s up?”
“Oh, you know. Not much. I’m telling this girl who is my best friend that I love her today.”
“You’re what?”
“Telling a girl that I love her. I told her before when she was drunk, but I’m doing it right this time. It’s all written out in a poem. Here, look – let me show you the pineapple I’m going to give her when I do it.”
“A pineapple?”
“Yeah. This girl thinks flowers exploit Central American children, and she always says she’s rather have some kind of American fruit. So I’ve got a pineapple for her. It’s from Hawaii.”
The girl looked at me strangely. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, typically they’re sweeter immediately after they’re picked, when…”
“Oh, Justin. I really hope it goes well.”
Economics class was torture, but that was not unusual, both for emotional and also pedagogical reasons. Hot Copy Editor and I typically amused each other by writing haikus and notes, her feminine, slanty, looped cursive alternating with my barbaric print. I was too nervous even for that. When the lecture was wrapping up, I couldn’t stand it any more.
“I have the haiku I told you I’d write about the other night.” I wrote in my notebook, showing it to her.
She leaned over to write on the same page. “Oo!” She used disposable fountain pens which made her letters glitter and hint at calligraphy.
I pulled some sheets out of my bag and put them on the desk in front of her, then drew an arrow to them in the top corner of my notebook page. They were neatly copied. I did the best I could.
HCE gave me a look, and swivelled to reach the notebook “But it’s so loooooooong!” Sure. Thirteen quatrains are a bit longer than a haiku, I guess.
“Seventeen syllables couldn’t get it done, kid.”
Class ended at that moment, so I pulled the pineapple out of my bag and thumped it down on top of the stapled pages. The professor glanced at me, then decided it wasn’t her business and looked away.
“And this is for you too!” I said.
“Justin…”
“Shush. Eat pineapple and read the poetry,” I said, and I left.
I had drafted out the poem in some blank pages of my notebook. I liked economics, so I kept and still have the notebook. For completeness, here is the poem in its entirety.
The haiku that I was to write
Has grown, to my chagrin, tonight.
But you’re a muse I can’t refuse
And now you’ll understand my plight.
I cross out words till I’ve no ink
I don’t know what to say and think
A year’s charade begins to fade
I go to pour another drink
Is it okay to love you yet?
The last few days make me forget.
My part I’ll play another day
For now I need no safety net.
I love, respect, and pine for you.
Believe me if you please; it’s true.
When I’m in bed you fill my head
With thoughts of things I wish to do.
But I know where your heart belongs
With him you’ll dance the slower songs
He loves your socks & shaggy locks
And you’re the girl for whom he longs.
So when you tell me “let’s make out”
I dearly wish to help you out
But I resist though you insist
‘Cause you prefer that other lout.
If only you were uglier
Your hair and wardrobe scuzzier
Another guy would walk right by
You’d still make me feel fuzzier.
But you’re the hottest girl I know
When you walk by you melt the snow
It sucks for me, ’cause I can see
Your brilliant, funny, inner glow.
I know I said I liked you less
I was unhappy, I confess
And all your words, like evil birds,
Had placed me in extreme duress.
But if I like you less than now
That might be better, you’ll allow
And in the end you’ll be my friend
If only I could find out how!
So for the moment, you remain
My favorite girl to entertain
It isn’t fair but I don’t care
I only have your love to gain.
The point is that I understand
That Friday night that no one planned
We both regret our words and yet
They’re far too late to countermand
So! I don’t want to hear you say
“I’m sorry.” You know it’s okay.
My love I’ll hide back deep inside
To give to you another day.
August 20th, 2007 at 2:31 pm
Oh. My. God.
August 20th, 2007 at 2:56 pm
ho.
ly.
cow.
i love it. keep writing man i’m hooked. i check this site daily. you’re killing me with the suspense.
August 20th, 2007 at 4:38 pm
so good
August 20th, 2007 at 5:13 pm
I blame John Hughes for making you believe that proclaiming your love would get you anyplace other than that “friend zone” you refer to in an earlier post.
Say Anything, indeed. Damn him. Damn him to hell!
August 20th, 2007 at 6:26 pm
I wish I could hate John Hughes to death!
August 20th, 2007 at 8:52 pm
[...] Awkward Things I Say to Girls: I love this blog with my heart, just as I love it’s author. The best part about it is that everything on this blog is true. Painfully and wonderfully true. [...]
August 20th, 2007 at 9:00 pm
Oh the pineapple was such a cute touch…
You know despite your mishaps and mess-ups one day you will make a nerdy girl very happy. I just hope that she is hot enough to melt the snow, and nerdy enough to discuss the complications of imaginary and complex numbers with you.
Unfortunately I couldn’t find a quote about love making you silly enough to give girls pineapples despite my firm belief that someone must have done that before, so I simply say to you, “Thou shalt not love by ways so dangerous” you might get hurt.
xxx xxx
August 21st, 2007 at 6:02 pm
So is that when she finally dumped her boyfriend?!?!??
August 21st, 2007 at 7:36 pm
A pineapple. And a Haiku.
…..and they say romance is dead.
Justin, you’re legend.
August 21st, 2007 at 8:52 pm
Wow. That was brave of you to share. How gut-wrenching that must have been to give to her. I could feel it reading it. I cannot WAIT to know what happened next.
August 22nd, 2007 at 9:34 am
Lovely Haiku. Not to put it down, but just wanted to point out the minor misuse of “you’re” in the fifth quatrain. But, the pining heart is allowed at least one grammatical mistake.
Keep posting! I really like reading your blog!
August 22nd, 2007 at 6:00 pm
Scott: Fixed. Thanks. Chalk it up to the fact that I can barely stand to look at the thing now. No way in hell that was in the version I gave to her, trust me.
August 22nd, 2007 at 9:47 pm
justin, will you marry me?
:P
August 23rd, 2007 at 10:47 am
that’s it??? you are an evil person to leave a cliffhanger like that!!!!
what happens next???!!! you’re killing us!!
great poem, btw. not too sappy. just funny and touching enough. and i’m not a poetry girl!
btw, was the pineapple whole? or sliced? weird question,i know. but pineapples are very watery, so if it was sliced, and in a bag, i am wondering if it was sticky and leaky. because that would be hilarious. and only add to your charming awkwardness. :)
August 24th, 2007 at 1:00 am
oh… my goodness… justin? guys like you really exist in this space and time? seriously, i think i’m on my way to falling for you. (awkward smile as i look at the spot on my tennis shoe.)
August 24th, 2007 at 11:25 am
Well, I said after last post that the “Friday night that no one planned” was more your fault than hers. I suppose reading this that you knew that all along.
Good to see that you tried to regain control over the situation. Because remember, ;) women cannot be trusted with these flirtatious and semi-platonic feelings.
August 24th, 2007 at 9:22 pm
nooooooooooooooooo…
you really truly wrote that to her and passed it to her with a pineapple?? too sweet and cute…
August 26th, 2007 at 5:23 pm
… and if I was HCE, I would have no freaking idea what to do.
August 27th, 2007 at 11:54 pm
i just spent the whole day reading this site, and…i need to know what happens! i think i’m sort of in love?
August 28th, 2007 at 3:17 pm
Poem + pineapple = sweet, thoughtful, hot! Can’t wait to hear what’s next.
P.S. New installment of Courting Predicament.
August 31st, 2007 at 1:20 am
THIS FUCKING OWNS. =)
lmao omg i just read the whole thing..
i wanna hug you..
and shes so weird..random..omg..
aww, pineapple..
September 1st, 2007 at 10:11 pm
A pineapple. So lovely.
September 15th, 2007 at 7:42 pm
My friend and I were arguing whether there was actually such a thing as “awkward cute.” I had problems coming up with examples of cute awkward boys. I typed in something along the lines of “awkward cute boy” into google and found your site. I won.
September 18th, 2007 at 10:18 pm
elkylos: john hughes did not write or direct “say anything.” cameron crowe did. get your eighties movie references right.
justin: a haiku would win my heart any day.
September 19th, 2007 at 9:37 am
yeah yeah. i know. that was the beers talking. good job calling me out, E. :)
September 19th, 2007 at 12:28 pm
That is the cutest thing ever. I swear, and the pineapple really just puts the finishing touch on it :D
September 21st, 2007 at 10:58 am
Pineapple? What about the exploitation of lush lands in Central america (or Hawaii for that matter…). I like the idea of getting a native fruit instead of flowers, but what about native flowers? What about that roses come from Ecuador. Would she have accepted South American Roses? :p
September 24th, 2007 at 8:00 am
Dude. You’re my hero.
September 30th, 2007 at 11:36 pm
I was just introduced to your blog today, and I think that I have spent nearly the whole day reading it. You must continue on with this story. I have to know what happens next. The suspense might actually kill me. Plus, I think that I might be in love with you… :D
October 6th, 2007 at 12:58 pm
[...] Uncategorized Just a guess, but I think I could fall in love with a guy like this. He’s a real [...]
October 6th, 2007 at 6:24 pm
Awesome! I wish i could add a very profound and sincere praise to your writings! But i will never find the right words to make it sound that way cause my English vocabulary sucks! In fact i stumbled across here typing ‘ackward’ in google to find out the right spelling for ‘awkward’. Then i clicked the ‘Do you mean : awkard’ link to look up its meaning because i still wasn’t sure it was the correct word. Great blog! Excuse my blabbering.
October 8th, 2007 at 3:28 pm
Although, I may just have better self-censorship skills, you are definitely the voice in my head. I just started from chapter 1… It makes my “Not-quite-there-yet” relationship with Hot Project Manager so much easier to bare ;-)
October 12th, 2007 at 9:47 pm
You’re witty AND poetic? No fair!!!
October 23rd, 2007 at 2:12 pm
I hope this works out better for you than it did when I tried it. Either way, though, you’ll be free of that prison you’ve built. :)
October 29th, 2007 at 2:47 pm
Write more please!!! You have an amazing writing style…it just melts my heart. I want to hear more.
February 6th, 2008 at 8:37 am
legend.
February 25th, 2008 at 6:49 pm
A haiku and a pineapple? You would have had me right then, wow.
Why aren’t there more guys like you?
May 6th, 2008 at 9:31 pm
haha gud stuff for sure twas right thoo
June 4th, 2008 at 2:26 pm
My, my, my. That certainly is a very tactful and splendidly written poem, if in common and popular English! If I were her, I’d have fallen for it. Mind you I don’t have a boyfriend so I can say that pretty easily xD
September 10th, 2008 at 9:10 pm
ur so hot man!
November 18th, 2008 at 4:24 am
wierd that mostly women seem to read your blog……..*awkward silence*…why the fuck am i reading it…..I say things to girls that belong in a museum. Then again my spelling belongs in an errorncy museum.
July 7th, 2009 at 9:38 pm
“So I’ve got a pineapple for her. It’s from Hawaii.”
The girl looked at me strangely. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, typically they’re sweeter immediately after they’re picked, when…”
That was absolutely hilarious.
July 7th, 2009 at 9:41 pm
And wow. I do expect that she’s going to be absolutely unsure how to react. Let’s turn the page….