Wanted: A Bow With a Scope

Wanted: A Bow With a Scope

So this past Wednesday was Valentines Day. Or as I call it, National Singles Awareness Day. Now I’ve taken some fair and some unfair shots at the holiday in the past and I think I’ve about exhausted most of the standard topics of “It’s such a Hallmark holiday’” “It sucks for people in relationships even more,” and “Exactly where is the line between admiration and stalking?” And so I am here to talk about something else. Something off the beaten path. I’m actually going to try to make a case IN FAVOR of Valentines Day, even though the line between admiration and stalking is always a good fallback.

So last year at this time, I was in a… well, some sort of a relationship. I didn’t know exactly what it was then and I still don’t now, but that’s a story for another day in a much more private setting (like a therapist’s office). So this year proved to be a much worse Valentine’s Day since I didn’t have even what I could quantify as an awkward relationship. I had none. Nothing. Squat. Bubka (sp?). But what I have this year that I have in common with last year is hope. Almighty, brilliant and suicide-postponing hope. And this hope manifested itself in the form of a cute redhead in my class who has absolutely no idea how old I am and will NOT until we get to know each other to the point that she’s pot committed. In the relationship that we’re already in inside my very unhealthy mind, this will occur in about 2 weeks. And I vowed to myself that I wasn’t going to hurt this girl ever. Which can be seen in the restraint I showed last week when the other girl in my class (I need to take more classes) eye-raped me in the bar and instead of taking her home, I simply stood there awkwardly and repeated the mantra in head “She’s scaring me… She’s scaring me… She might kill me…” until I convinced myself not to do anything. If you know me well enough, you realize that this pattern of behavior can also be attributed not only to my desire to be a nice guy, but also my ineptitude as a real man. But we’re moving on.

So anyway, this redhead and I have been exchanging extremely obvious looks since day one of class. And I just could not muster up the sac to do or say anything. Every time I tried, I was cursed with another mantra. “She’s only 19... She’s just a child… You’re too old for her... You’ll pull a muscle...” But I finally forced myself into the awkward tension much like those cartoon elephants force themselves into glasses of water at the carnival and I asked her to dinner. It was a smooth line too. “So I have a proposition for you. How about you come and watch me play volleyball and I’ll take you to dinner? OR how about I just take you to dinner?” It was even field-tested on my only other redheaded children’s librarian so I figured it had to work. However, the line wasn’t quite delivered like that. I don’t have transcripts of the tape, but I think it came out much more like “So I have a proposition for you [long awkward pause]… Hey, did you fucking see Lost last night?” OK, it wasn’t that bad, but it didn’t go quite like the way I rehearsed it. Either way, I was doing back flips over the fact that I asked her out. And yes, I wrote that correctly. I was doing back flips merely because I asked her out. That was an accomplishment enough for me. The fact that she said yes just added a reverse handspring into my routine. And I did pull that muscle. Damn mantra.

So I now have a date with a 19-year-old gorgeous redhead from my class who will inevitably read this someday (Hi Sara). And she is the most beautiful, kind, intriguing, intelligent and absolutely beautiful woman there ever could be who could really give me a back massage about now. Unfortunately for this piece, all this happened on the day directly after Valentines Day. Mother Nature thwarted my plans for the actual Valentines Day. Damn her, that thwarter of plans. Thankfully Father Time is on my side. Until I have to tell her how old I am in two weeks. Then I’m going to pretend I don’t even know the man.

Quote of the Day 2/16/07

Two weeks ago…

Ben: “Hey Dustin, in the off chance that you have somebody to buy flowers for this holiday, can you buy them from me? My fraternity is doing this fund-raising [blah, blah, blah].”

Me: “Well, I’m not seeing anybody now. Haven’t in about 9 months. But it is 2 weeks away and smaller miracles have been known to occur. But right now, the forecast doesn’t look too good.”

Ben: “Yeah, I know. That’s why I said ‘in the off-chance.’”

Hey Ben. I’ll take two flowers now. One for Sara and one to shove up your ass. And in the “off-chance” it doesn’t hurt enough, let’s leave the thorns on it.

“You’re not too old for her… You’re not too old for her…”

Dutty.

Still Standing Right Here…