I ran into my last big crush last night while on my way to the store to get orange juice. She was carrying a giant case of beer and looking even more beautiful than I remembered her being, which was a surprise since I remembered her being quite beautiful. Our eyes met as we passed one another and...absolutely nothing. Had we both been covered in a highly flammable liquid, such as kerosene or napalm (which is more of a gel, but still quite flammable) we would have been entirely safe because there was not even a spark of recognition. Of course I suppose that there still would be considerable danger in being covered in such a flammable substance, I mean people leave burning cigarettes* on the sidewalk and there's always a danger of inhaling fumes, but ignition would not have occurred at that point. Come to think of it I might not have even noticed her had I been covered in napalm, so preoccupied would I have been in getting it off me as soon as possible.
I really wish I'd had some sort of obvious accomplishment over the last year to boost my self-esteem upon spotting her again, but not really. I've achieved a lot of personal growth over the past 11 months, but that and a token won't even get you on the subway. You need a metro card now. I went from being something of an academic star to a semi-out of work spec writer living with his mother still hanging around the old college. Smooth. I think I also managed to pack on something like 30 pounds. Smoother. I'd say what smoothest was but I think I'd have to hang myself immediately after, and that's not something I feel like doing.
God but this girl was beautiful. She was the one who finally proved my theory that intelligence and humor don't count for shit, at least not with the ladies. Being acknowledged as the smartest one in class will get you an A but not the L- -I-D you want around it. Being funny enough that she asks someone else to repeat your snide asides in the middle of class? Yeah, that's meaningless. So, any young fellas out there reading, I suggest you throw aside your books and funny glasses and go try out for the football team or something. Happiness (in the form of female attention, at least ) comes from built pecs and a big paycheck.
Okay, I'm coming off as spectacularly bitter, and I was last night a little. I wanted to recapture that mood this morning, remember it a little. Truth is I feel okay. It's just another reason to get up and moving and improve myself. Some day I will be relatively fit and situated in life and damn it gorgeous creatures like that will reject me for the black hearted bastard I am on the INSIDE and not the loser I am on the OUTSIDE. Women like her are one of life's great jokes. They are the single most desirable thing on the planet and parceled out in such small numbers that attaining them is almost impossible.
Especially if you don't try.
*I realize that it is not easy to get napalm to combust, but if I ask people whether they would feel comfortable being covered in napalm and having cigarettes flicked at them I firmly believe almost all would say "Hell no" or offer some other similar denial.