Wednesday, October 13, 2004
My take on a blind date
This little monologue came from an IM convo I was having with Matt on 11/24/03
Guava421: I just hope he won’t try to impress with superficial knowledge. That’s my luck. I’ll be stuck, pinned down between the table and the wall like I’m in some sort of jail cell with some guy that will try to quote Dostoevsky to me. Of course he'll only quote from the first 20 pages because that’s as for as he read. Same for the rest of the books he'll try to use. Maybe if I’m lucky he won't throw in a Moby Dick reference, though I’m never that lucky. Then he'll pull out his passport and try to impress me with how worldly he is and all the “truly fascinating" places he's been and all the "incredibly amazing" people he's met, but its all bull because he just breezed through those places, only conversing with other tourists who want to be "completely immersed in the native culture" yet still seem to eat all of their meals at a McDonalds. And the sole purpose for his taking pictures is to bring them home and show chicks in hopes it will help him get laid. He'll then probably bring up some underground musician, possibly a Jeff Buckley type, and proceed to tell me how deep his lyrics are and how no one can truly understand Jeff’s angst but him, because he's über sensitive. And of course the only reason for all of this is to get me back to his place. He’ll try to be all smooth and then fuck up with some shitty line like "let's go back to my place, drink some wine and listen to some old school R&B and see where this goes", whereupon my reply will be "do you think anything you've said tonight has been the least bit original instead of completely transparent? You are a boy, and an unintelligent one at that. No I do not want to listen to you poorly quote Tolstoy, or see your godforsaken passport, no I don’t want to listen to you talk about Jeff, and I certainly do not want to go back to your place, listen to Marvin Gaye and/or touch you. Thanks for trying though, but next time don't assume that I’m a moron, or that I haven't been out with ‘you’ a million times already, perhaps not you ‘you’, but the thousand other ‘yous’ that think they are clever, but really aren't and us girls are all over what you're trying to get away with." That’s my luck, Matt.
I'm still proud of that one.
Guava421: I just hope he won’t try to impress with superficial knowledge. That’s my luck. I’ll be stuck, pinned down between the table and the wall like I’m in some sort of jail cell with some guy that will try to quote Dostoevsky to me. Of course he'll only quote from the first 20 pages because that’s as for as he read. Same for the rest of the books he'll try to use. Maybe if I’m lucky he won't throw in a Moby Dick reference, though I’m never that lucky. Then he'll pull out his passport and try to impress me with how worldly he is and all the “truly fascinating" places he's been and all the "incredibly amazing" people he's met, but its all bull because he just breezed through those places, only conversing with other tourists who want to be "completely immersed in the native culture" yet still seem to eat all of their meals at a McDonalds. And the sole purpose for his taking pictures is to bring them home and show chicks in hopes it will help him get laid. He'll then probably bring up some underground musician, possibly a Jeff Buckley type, and proceed to tell me how deep his lyrics are and how no one can truly understand Jeff’s angst but him, because he's über sensitive. And of course the only reason for all of this is to get me back to his place. He’ll try to be all smooth and then fuck up with some shitty line like "let's go back to my place, drink some wine and listen to some old school R&B and see where this goes", whereupon my reply will be "do you think anything you've said tonight has been the least bit original instead of completely transparent? You are a boy, and an unintelligent one at that. No I do not want to listen to you poorly quote Tolstoy, or see your godforsaken passport, no I don’t want to listen to you talk about Jeff, and I certainly do not want to go back to your place, listen to Marvin Gaye and/or touch you. Thanks for trying though, but next time don't assume that I’m a moron, or that I haven't been out with ‘you’ a million times already, perhaps not you ‘you’, but the thousand other ‘yous’ that think they are clever, but really aren't and us girls are all over what you're trying to get away with." That’s my luck, Matt.
I'm still proud of that one.
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