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Drive By

I wish you would be weak so I could be strong.  Why can’t you be the one who drives past my house on your way home at night?  Is it because your house is before mine?  Is it because we both have construction blocking our streets from easy access?  I start to wish you were the type of girl who would call me every night to see if I’m home yet, and then I realize that if you were that type of girl I would never have been with you.  I never liked that type.  But I can be that type.    So why were you with that type of girl?  I remember when we first started going out you told me about a girl you used to be with.  You broke up with her, but said you would have gotten back together with her if she had hired a skyscraper to write that she loved you across the sky.  If I did that, you wouldn’t even be fazed.  I don’t know what I could do to get you back besides being someone else.  I have not yet managed to master my shape shifting techniques or I would be transformed and in your bed with you right now.  Although that wouldn’t do any good either because I drove by your house tonight and you’re not home.  Well, I’m not absolutely sure because your street was blocked off with construction walls.

 

Kraft

“Look,” I said to her the night we met. “Let’s just be friends because we’ll fall in love too soon and move in together too quickly.  Then we will fight sometimes, and end up hurting each other.  And I have a feeling I’ll always get hurt worse than you.”

She would have been lying if she’d said she would never hurt me.  Instead she said, “Alright, we will be friends.”   But of course, that didn’t last.  We were sleeping together within a week, living together inside the month and a year later, we had broken up.  So for those of you who have had your eye on her, she is officially single now, like a piece of Kraft Processed American Cheese Food.

 

Mind Walk

I saw “Mind Walk” on video one evening and told my girlfriend about the film as we lay in bed later that night.  Just imagine, I said, we are all just a swirling mass of molecules spinning and colliding.  My thoughts are not contained in my head, they float freely for anyone to snatch from the air.  When I walk by someone on the street and mistakenly brush against them, our energies combine, we become connected, perhaps I walk off with part of them.  Our energy makes love in a handshake.  Nothing is, as it appears to be.  We are not solid.  My girlfriend looked at me blankly and said, “But what difference does it make?  What does it matter?”

We broke up soon after.  It matters.

 

Table Scraps

I had a thought the other day.  It fell into my head like an anvil on a cartoon coyote: “I’m still alive.   She’s still alive.   And yet, we aren’t together.”  It would make much more sense if death were keeping us apart.  But there is nothing keeping us apart but her.  She doesn’t want me anymore.  It seems like such a simple barrier.  It’s as if a thin veil of cheese cloth separates us.  I see her starring daily in the loop tape film, projected in my mind.  There she is.  There she isn’t.  The reel gets shorter.  I lose frames sometimes.  Someone I admire said, “You really live where your thoughts reside.”  I have been living in the past.  My thoughts have been with her and she doesn’t exist anymore.  If my mind can find my way back to reality, it will surely have a great void to fill.  How does one fill the hole that hollows out the heart?

 

500 Level

God forbid your relationship should ever run aground like a Pirates of The Caribbean tour boat.  But if you were to experience a break-up, it would likely feel exactly like a death.  And not her death either — it will feel like you have died and gone to hell.  And not the hell for kids either, the hard hell, for smart people.  The hell that begins with 500-level courses, where you must have suffered a tremendous amount of agony just to gain entrance.  You will ruminate obsessively about everything you ever did with the one you loved, and that is just while you’re sleeping.  The upside is that you will only suffer over someone you love for half as long as you were together with her in a relationship.  If you were with her for three years, you will still be mentioning her name inadvertently in conversations for at least a year and a half.

 

Eventually, you will get over her.  You may even become friends.  Or you may continue to harbour residual anger.  Whichever the case, you will one day feel the need to seek other companionship.  As soon as you think you are ready to go out and meet girls, you are not ready yet.  You must have many disastrous dates before you become completely disillusioned with dating.  You will finally come to an understanding that the planet is a giant black hole of love, and you’ll give up any hope of finding even so much as a fuck buddy.  You will throw yourself so deeply into your work that you won’t even notice the cute girl who brings in the UPS packages.  When you absolutely no longer care about women, when you hardly notice the difference between women and men, when Helen Hunt could be Linda Hunt, for all you care, this is when that special woman will slam dance right into your mosh pit.  Now you are ready for love again.

 

 

The Pick-Up

Okay, so you just broke up with that girl of you dreams who is now sleeping with your neighbor.  Well, you didn’t just break up, it’s been two years, but you’re just beginning to really get over it.  You are happy with your life.  You know that you are the center of your universe and no one, and nothing in the external world can bring you happiness, that kind of stuff comes from within.  You are now a walking spiritual temple.  You would like some companionship but you think it might not be prudent to seek it out.   You would rather let the universe guide your way.  Eventually you opt to believe that the universe must want you to be assertive.

 

Looking for a girl is like chasing a gazelle.  This may be easy for another gazelle, but a gazelle never falls for another gazelle, they are more fond of cheetahs.  It is a Zen concept to grasp but light some purple sage, take a deep breath and meditate on this.  Girls want girls who don’t want them.  So if you want a girl, you must approach her, and without being rude, let her know you have absolutely no interest in her.

Laying a pick-up line on a girl can get you what you want for the moment, but consider that the line could haunt you, as she repeats to her friends years after you’ve both been together.

Here are some examples of how to lay a line on a girl:

 

The bar line:

“Hi, I’m trying to impress my friends over there.  But they’re all dorks, so after we are done talking, could you just roll your eyes, laugh, turn to your friends and say sarcastically, `Oh brother’”

“Can I have your phone number.  I already have four other phone numbers and I’d like to go home and plan my week.

“Hi, I noticed you standing there looking very content, as if you were a still life painted by a sixteenth century Dutch genre painter.  My girlfriend said you looked like a Kandinsky but I insisted you have nothing to do with abstract expressionism.”   She may think you’re smart.  If she’s smart, this could be a disadvantage, especially if she’s smarter than you and asks you which Dutch painter you were imagining.  If she thinks you are smarter than she is, you will end up playing the Arthur Miller to her Marilyn Monroe.  Ask yourself, do you want to know that she will never be after you for your looks?

“Hi, I’m a scientist.  I need your help.  Can you and I spend one minute trying to be completely real and vulnerable and then afterwards we can both totally ignore each other for the rest of our lives?   I’m trying to calculate the mathematical formula for compressing a relationship.”

“Hi, do you know what time it is?  No, I mean in Russia.  I promised I’d call home if I were going to be out past midnight.  What do you mean I’m in the U.S.?  Ah man, when I thought my brother told me to cross the Bering Strait, he must have said, bare straight.  Well, whatever, I’m here now.  Do you like to join me inside a drink?”

“Hi, can you act like you’re with me for just a second.  There is this girl following me and I think she wants to kill me, or fuck me, I can’t be sure.  I told her I was here with my sister, but I can’t find my sister, probably because I don’t have one.  When she comes up to you, will you act like you’re my sister and kiss me passionately?”

 

The coffee house Line:

“Hi, didn’t I meet you at the Lillith Fair?”

“Hello, did you know that a ‘skinny skitzy’ is a non-fat half-calf?  The word Skitzy connotes a full caffeine dose to me.  Okay, no more coffee for me.”

 

The Library Line:

“Is this seat taken?  No, I mean the one you’re sitting in.”

“I couldn’t help noticing you were reading that cumbersome thing with pages.  Where’s the mouse?”

“Wow, is this place dead tonight or what?  You could hear a name drop.  Speaking of names, I’m Stella, the Librarian.  I’m not really the librarian.  That’s just what my friends call me when they want me to come down here and check out books for them.  Other times they call me Stella the Banker, or Stella the Grocer.  What a bunch of characters my friends are.  Do you wanna be my friend?”

 

Or how about forgetting about all that game-y stuff and just be yourself.  It’s just nutty enough to work.

 

There wouldn’t ever be a need for game playing if girls were always friendly and open.  Here are some ways to encourage women to feel comfortable enough to be real with you:

Smile at everyone you see, not in a Prozac holiday kind of way, just in an “I’m an approachable human being way.”