Let's keep it real. We have all used this line. We have all been on the receiving end of this line. Either way it is not always a fun conversation to have. About a year ago, I was confronted with redefining this terminology with the Norwegian.
Now the Norwegian, was this dreamboat of a man, whom my friends declared as "too pretty for his own good." When I first met him, my breath literally caught in my throat, in fact I think I even choked on the fruity martini I was drinking (I bring classy to any party!) and it didn't help that his voice was pure manly butter (if you need me to explain this then you have never experienced manly voice butter before, suffice to say its deliciously scrumptious...Odin godlike even). Of course, right off the bat, it was incredibly obvious I was NOT his dreamboat. In fact, if he turned himself anymore in his stool he would have been out the door, and yet for whatever reason, we still seemed to hit it off. Conversationally, that is. Score one for me being a smarty! NERDS UNITE!
So as the night ended, and I was driving home, I realized that I wasn't about to let hunk-a-chunk go without some sort of battle cry, and thus I devised the "let's be friends" war strategy...Which, in most cases, you receive after coming on too strong, or having to let someone down easily, but I figured if this was offered up on the plate from the get go, without the disinterested party preempting it, then I would still have an IN into the batcave. The deliciously Norwegian batcave (where unicorns spawn).
He, in turn, readily accepted (under friendly fire) my invitation. Ensue many hangouts later, under the glorious gaze of his magnetic stare (<~~~someone read way too many romance novels as a child), I realized, one inherent factor, I just literally screwed myself into a broken-hearted corner. I just went to war with myself and it left me wondering if I should have just cut my loses, licked my wounds, and run for the hills. Instead of slowly doing what my friends like to call "the long con" and woe him with my charm, I was stuck pretending to be another one of the guys, listening to stories of him making out with other girls (oh yeah, pure romance here), and texting him like a 19 year old. "Hey dude, whats up? How's it hanging? OMG did you see the new spiderman movie? It's so lame!!!!"
Of course, the messed up thing of it all is that I knew better, in fact I knew so much better that every glass menagerie paraphernalia was mocking my intelligence for falling into such a dumb trap. While part of me gaga-ed, the other part of me wanted to sucker punch my face. And while yes, I learned many many a thing from the Norwegian about the ways of men (and no not kinky ways, dammit), I realized inevitably, the friend "trap" can never work out. There is just too much of a chemical imbalance to immediate physical attraction for it to ever convince your mind or your emotions that things can be anything but. So i had to end it with the Nord. Over rock climbing none the less. As we were bouldering our way to success, I simply told him, "Thanks, Batman", climbed back down, and called it a day. Every now and then I get a text from him wondering about life, and what the hell Batman was all about, and I still get those butterflies from his husky voice, but as I learned, you just can't redecorate the batcave. Not even as catwoman.
No comments:
Post a Comment