She had these blue eyes that were so intoxicating that they kept me from getting a really good look down her shirt to those unbelievable tits of hers. Look, I’m a guy, ok? I was issued a penis at birth. I crawled out of this small wet cave and looked down and there it was, one a half inches of baby dick glory. (And I don’t want to brag or anything but it doubles in size every 40 years!) So as much as I tried to break eye contact with her and sneak a quick peek down into the hot zone, I just couldn’t do it. She probably thought I was a nice guy not looking down her shirt and all. And boy ‘o boy, was that was a bad move on my part. See, girls like that aren’t interested in nice guys. They always end up falling for some beauty that treats ‘em like shit. It’s hard to tell a girl with eyes that blue that, “Hey I can be an asshole too! Why not give me a shot? Look, we can play around this afternoon you won’t hear from my ass for weeks! See, whatta jerk off!” But I’m stuck being the nice guy, which if you haven’t guessed already, is code for horny and frustrated.
I seemed to always find myself walking right next to her after class. And I don’t mean it happened once; this went on for weeks. And during this time two amazing things happened. One, when I glanced in her direction, she didn’t suddenly become entranced with that piece of gum that’s been stuck to the floor all semester or that hairline fracture in the wall, believe it or not, my face was actually more interesting to look at. And second when I spoke to her, I got more than a monosyllabic grunt! Now, I need to explain for those of you who don’t live in or near a big northeastern city, that this is an unusual thing. Most people you run into won’t even acknowledge your existence. It’s not that they don’t look you in the eye and speak, they just don’t realize that your even there. Those strange blurry flashes of light and sound that extend just past the tips of their noses is foreign territory to them. They’re busy thinking about their next really clever tweet or Facebook post.
“Took a shit last night that looked like one of Charlie Sheen’s goddesses. To flush or not?”
As we talked I began to think to myself “maybe, just maybe…” Now, I’ll be the first to admit I usually misread the signs but this time just seemed different. (Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!) So I began to delude myself into asking her out for a drink. I mean hell, if I can capture her attention stone cold sober, I’ll seem like George freakin’ Clooney, after she has a couple a Cosmos in her! So I tell myself, next Thursday, that’ll be the day I make my move. I figure we can get together on the weekend. Yep! I got it all planned out in my head. She’ll say yes, and then Bing! Bam! Boom! Nice and simple, even I couldn’t screw this one up.
Thursday comes and class ends and guess whose walking right next to me?
“Ok Chris, let’s do it!”, so I asked.
“ Hey Jen, whatta you say you and I….” And then it happened.
Have you ever asked a girl out and as your asking a look comes over her face that says
“I’d rather you pull a knife on me, than ask me out on a date!”
So I knew the answer before I even finished my sentence. Now if I had to give some advice to a woman who finds herself in position similar to Jen’s, I’d say do a Nancy Reagan and just say no. That’s all you really need to say. I don’t need your life’s story. A short sentence with the word no in it would suffice. It’s a small word, it’s not a difficult thing to do, heck I do it all the time!
“No officer, I’ve never seen that marijuana before.”
“No honey, I didn’t like it when you stuck your finger up my ass!”
“No, I don’t want any fucking girl scout cookies!”
Nice and simple. But lucky me, I go 0-2.
“Oh god, another stalker!”
Really?!? I asked you out for a drink! I didn’t show up at your little sister first communions with a box a chocolates and my zipper half down, ok sweetheart.
“…I’ve given up dating for a while…”
Gee, I’ve never heard that one before. I’ve put more fallen women back on the path to righteousness then Jesus Christ Himself. If you listen hard you can actually hear women’s legs snap shut as I walk past.
“…See, my last boyfriend was a homeless drug addict and ….”
Don’t you just love a person who knows exactly what to say to make you feel better? The homeless guy get’s a yes and I get a no? Gee, I never knew that the phase, “You wanna come up to my refrigerator box for a nightcap?”, was so alluring.
So now that I’ve spent all of my waking hours thinking about how I’m going to charm my way into her heart, (and we all see how well THAT worked out) now I have about 3 seconds to figure out a graceful exit strategy. Thankfully, I think quickly on my feet and I decided my best course of action was to walk head first into a doorway. Yep…. smooth as sandpaper.