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  •  I voted for Charlie Brown and the (2+ / 0-)
    Recommended by:
    cfk, RiveroftheWest

    little red haired girl.  It's not even really a romance, because there was no interaction.  All we ever got was Charlie Brown's obsessive worrying about it and embarrassment.  

    I was one of those kids in high school that worshiped girls from afar, so I could identify with Charlie Brown.  I'd spend most of a semester staring at the back of her head, trying to think of what I would say if I ever DID say anything, and then watch in horror as boys who were more socially adept just sat on her desk and started conversations.  And then I would plunge from distant love to distant hatred for her because, hey, I guess she just wasn't special enough for my kind of unique angsty well-read coolness.  Those boys would never read Omar Khayyam to her.  What a loser...

    I played that game out many times.  I was in love with this girl one time (in my twenties) who was a born-again Christian.  We had an argument over religion (she was born-again Christian) and then she started giving me the cold shoulder.  So I guess I became a stalker -- back before the word stalker had become cool -- and I camped out on her porch one night refusing to leave unless she came out and talked to me so I could beg her forgiveness and improvise, which I was sure would work.  I fell asleep, only to wake up to cops flashing a spotlight on me and demanding to know who I was, what I was doing, etc.  When they talked to the girl inside, she started crying and complaining about how I just wouldn't go away.  

    That was enough for me.  I had misjudged the situation.  And I felt like, wow, I misjudged HER.  I had thought the over the top romance thing was the key to her heart.  

    Days pass by, and I get a call from her roommate, to tell me that her dad was going to come by with a restraining order against me.

    [Please note, this is not the usual anecdote I would put in a resume.]

    Now I was really pissed off for ever getting involved with her.  Her dad hated my guts and I've never particularly got along with any woman's father.  EVER.  So I was cooking up all kinds of snappy comebacks I was going to toss at him if he showed up.  But really, I was done with his daughter.  DONE DONE.  Wanted nothing to do with her.

    And then she called me, to apologize for the fact that her dad was going to serve a TRO on me.  I told her, forget that.  How about, instead, you invite me over there and we both call in sick at work and screw like bunnies until Monday?

    She was quiet for a minute (I really was intending to shock her) and then she got this giggly sound in her voice and said, "My dad would be SO MAD AT ME if I did that!"

    And I thought, shit, it worked!  This could work!  The secret to her heart is to piss on her dad.  

    "Fuck your old man!  Say the word and I'll come over!  Ok wait, forget that.  Vegas!  You, me, magic tigers, sweet alcoholic drinks with dirty names!"

    "Oh, you know we're not allowed to drink alcohol..." [I think she was Seventh Day Adventist or Mormon, something like that.]

    "I bet there are a lot of things you haven't been allowed to do..."

    So we got all hot and steamy on the phone while I awaited her dad.  Who never came, which was probably for the best because I was ready to make a scene.  And I never took her to Vegas.  Because (this is such a sad thing, worthy of analysis by a shrink), I DESPISED HER now!  For being so weak.  And I couldn't understand very well how easily I could swing from hot to cold like that, but that's the way I was in those days.  I didn't TOTALLY lose interest in her because I thought it would be cool to make her dad feel like an asshole, but I realized that that petty ambition was more interesting than she was, at that point, so it was better to just tune her and her bible-thumping dad out of my life the way I had thought I was going to be tuned out of hers.

    On reflection, that might be a little TOO much biography.  I'm chuckling thinking about it.  "My Dad would be sooooo mad at me!..."

    •  High school was hard (3+ / 0-)

      that is for sure.  

      Hubby had a hard time.  We went to school together from 7th grade on in a small school.  I thought he was cute.  He thought I was nice to people.  

      But he had no car and it was long distance on the phone.

      Long story.

      I am glad you didn't get a TRO.  

      Join us at Bookflurries-Bookchat on Wednesday nights 8:00 PM EST

      by cfk on Wed Feb 13, 2013 at 10:43:08 PM PST

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