Girls, Girls, Girls

As many of you know, I tend to declare and embrace my perpetual bachelorhood. The truth behind the matter is I tend to dig my own grave more than I would prefer. In the past few weeks I have stepped up to the plate and took the pitches given and then walked my lame self back to the dugout in defeat.

Sometimes my motives are no more than maintaining simple dialogue. It must be simple for the reason of loud music or those meddling friends nearby, and who really goes out to have a profound conversation. I am sure people do have the immediately deep connection, just rarely is it one that is sporting the ever so exquisite mini skirt.

Occasionally I don’t even know I am hitting on a girl, and she goes and says she is not interested. Apparently when one is within a five foot radius of a young woman it is taken as a sexual advancement. Intentional or not, it is always good to know rejection could happen at any second. When accused of making advancements, I usually am unappreciative (most likely because they were unsuccessful). Example, she was in a band and I was intrigued (no, seriously), I asked a few too many questions and she dropped the line. “Well, my boyfriend…” Amazing. Boyfriend you say, he must be the drummer.

Another night in the city I was en route with my friend. For identity reasons let’s refer to him as Rohn Jossi. It is important to know he was the driver of the 95 Subaru Legacy. Anyway, we were approaching a parking lot near some bars and I noticed a black VW. I looked at the driver to make sure she was an attractive girl. Her story checked out. I purposely looked longer than normal to get her to notice me (I figured what would happen? I am in a car). I forgot I was in a 95 Subaru Legacy. She looks at me with disbelief that I, a mere peasant am looking at her Gucciness. I give back the nod indicating, yes I know I have no chance but at least I did not waste a beer on you. Meanwhile, Rohn saw this budding vehicular romance and chose to roll the window down. Forced to talk, (as she too amazingly rolled her window down) I muttered “yeah…that’s all I got.” “Yeah, right” she said. Then she looked at the passenger door of the Legacy, her face became repulsed with the sight of a non-German import. Rohn sees this and screams “don’t be dogging the Legacy. The Legacy lives on!!!” We then parked to go strike out with more girls.

I remember being in trouble with my mom when she had her back to me. “I have eyes in the back of my head” she always told me. Well I think there are other girls with those same powers. It has come to my attention mainly on long straight-aways when I am behind a girl for more than ten seconds. Yes, by nature I have looked at the trunk. However, the few times I am not, these girls catch my attention by unnaturally tugging their shirts past their butt. In moments like those I stand wrongly accused of gawking.

Then there was the job offer I just could not refuse or could I? Desperate for work, I called anything that seemed remotely respectable. The offer was to work for a public interest group that focuses on environmental policies. The term “canvassing” was used liberally. What that really meant was standing around street corners like a knob and asking people to care about the Earth they are destroying. I was interested.

The sole reason why I did not walk out of the interview was almost as amazing as the reasons to leave. I walked into a small room with folding chairs and eight people. Guess who was the only person dressed professionally? The rest of the tree huggers were wearing shorts, backwards hats, and sandals. Clearly, I was the only environmentalist there that was not representing the persona of pot head extraordinaire. One of the guys was fixing his sock and I noticed his house arrest anklet. This was a high caliber pool of applicants.

Then she walked in. Suddenly getting paid $300-500 a week seemed ok as long as Kat was my boss. She is tall, tan complexion; she was wearing an orange tank top, and her knock out punch- orange eye shadow. Kat is a beautiful girl, so beautiful that I would have willingly sacrificed my credit rating to take her out. I chose to try and make more money. I want to call her back and let her know that I will not be taking the position but was wondering if she was free to get together.

There is an old saying when you fall off the horse get back up on it. No one ever considers that maybe the horse is not interested in having you try and ride them. (Maybe the horse had someone try bareback and is hesitant to ride altogether) Nor do they mention that the horse will take joy in your fall and retell the story to all their horse friends as they chuckle by the oat bag.