|Notice how my date is taking the picture?|
It is high time that I just come out and admit it. All I really write about is girls. Fine. That is what this blogs theme is. Some have the theme of pictures, others cleverness, or even political thoughts. Mine = girls. Sorry, young women. In a way, this is the theme of my life. I am searching for the woman of my dreams, one that I don't deserve. *Sigh*. Now, coming out and admitting that I am on this search may make some squirm. But it's the truth. I am done coasting. I want my life to move on. To enter a new chapter in my life... at least that I what I am saying now. And this is why....
Dating sucks. This is no new revelation to anyone who has attempted to progress in this game. Getting girls numbers causes me to get ubber nervous. First dates make me nauseous. Getting to know a stranger is a challenge. Then they end up being a dead end in a road, or worse, a hole in my heart. Cynical view, yes. There is truth to this. (Que the music, preferably some slow jams.) All I really want is a wife. There I said it. Someone I can confide in. Someone that will be on my team all the time (look at Edward and Bella----> AWESOME), rooting me on for success, and helping me through failures. Gosh dang, I want a woman that loves me for me. This sounds super dumb (and corny... super corny), but I want to be loved. And I, here we go, want to love some back. There, the cat is out of the bag. Let's move on, cause it got really weird just now.
Last week my buddies decide to plan a date night. Remember I am still in this happy go lucky "lets go on dates and just have fun". I ask a girl, Rose, she is pretty and is fun to flirt with. I ask her days in advance. She agrees to come to this date night. "Great," I think, "No pressure now. I have a date. No one will be jawing at me to get a date." It comes to the date night. She knows. There is NO doubt that she knows, we talked about it the day before, in class. I text her, just to open dialogue, to let her know when I will pick her up. Mistake, I know (see death by texting). No response. I decide she must be in class. I give it an hour. Then I remember my own personal experience with girls and texting. They ALWAYS have their damn phones and texting is retarded. I call her. Rings out. Hmmm. Weird. I put on the brakes. Let it go, let her figure it out. The time arrives, and nothing, not a peep, no smoke signal. She is pulling a Bobby Fischer, Magiver, wicked witch act, she is going to ICE me. At first I am pissed. My pride is hurt. Ego damaged. Self esteem bruised. Then, my homies come over....
I am chilling on the couch, eating some carb filled foods, shirt off, crumbs littering my stomach, watching a movie that reminds me of how a man should act in dire times: Gladiator. (Thank heavens for Russell Crowe.) Some of the crew rolls in and tell me their unsuccessful bid to get dates as well. I can't help but laugh and let the muscle in my body ease up. Blastoff tells me how this girl blows him off with homework. Then another doesn't respond to his text until its too late. I hear tibits about how some of the others got iced with LAME excuses, but The People's story takes the cake. He asks this girl. Not sure how he met her. Doesn't matter really. He asks her out. The day of the date, like hours till we are a 'go for launch', he gets a text. (See how dumb texting is! Just a way for people to avoid being real. UGH!) The texts something like, "Hey, I am kinda not single anymore." Um what? Kinda not single...? Within 12 hours of being asked out on date she is hitched. Shoot, I bet it was facebook official within minutes.
The night turns into just us brothers kicking it. Having a good time, like always. The next day I get a text. I hope by now you are disgusted with texting as much as I am. It is from...what is her name again...Rose. Ah, I had to scroll up to remember what pseudonym I gave her. That is how memorable I guess she is. Anyways, it is a long text.
"Hey, did you call me yesterday? I dropped my phone in the toilet. I couldn't see who was calling, the screen was black. I just got my replacement phone from Verizon...." I don't really remember the rest, you get the point. This alibi is full proof... Yeah, right.
I see some major holes in this story. If a phone is fully immersed in water, a toilet, it will not work. Water damage is fatal. I am a little surprised that it fell in a toilet. I guess I usually am on my phone doing all sorts of stuff near my open toilet. Texting. Calling. Just gaming it up. Sometimes I throw my phone in the air and catch it just before it hits the water. Really cool game. Like Russian roulette..... Wait, the screen was black. Yeah, cannot answer my phone if I don't know who the heck is calling me. The screen is BLACK! Then again, if the phone is working, why not call the dude who asked you out and let him know that you are going to stand him up? That is too considerate. Too classy. You have a reputation to maintain.... which is improving ever so much.
Let's give her a break. We are being too hard. The phone, if it did survive the fall to the poop bowl, may not have been able to make calls. She didn't know my number. Oops. She has roommates and friends that know my number. Huh. Another inquiry comes to mind, you just got a replacement phone... again, using a friend's phone to be polite is too much to ask. Verizon doesn't have rollover minutes. Too much to ask really. Just too much. Come on David. This is the 21 century. You are behind the time. Chivarly is dead. Being cool is old fashioned.
When I see her again I try not to show that I am a little put off by her lameness. I find it extremely interesting that she doesn't show me her "new" phone, and acts all awkward about it. She blushes and I have a slight hunch that she is lying. She looks too uncomfortable. I try not to probe. Then I ask... She says, "The replacement phone looks just like the old one..." I bet it does. All the same scratches and everything. Cell phone companies are trying a new thing. They are actually selling phones with scratches and normal wear and tear. Just like popular pants. Neat huh? I thought so. That is why I am going to get a iPhone that has a huge crack in it!
Do I believe her? No. Will I give Rose another chance? When Robin Williams changes his name to Jackass 3D. But David, that will never happen... I know. That is the point...