Big You, Little Me: A True Story.

So...this post could land me in a lot of trouble, but by the time you finish reading it, you'll probably understand why I just don't care.

Having recently read Junot Diaz's mesmerizing The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao and feeling that I had way too much in common with Oscar for my comfort, I think it would be fair to say, at this point in my life, that I'm notoriously unfortunate when it comes to the realm of love and romance. As in, neither of the two happen. Confusion, disappointment, heartbreak, and rejection? A dime a dozen. A BF? No, not really.

This is not to say that I'm not attracting anyone. The truth of the matter, however, is that if a man wants me, it's because he's: married or in a relationship (I really don't want to call anyone out on the Internet..so don't ask about it); homeless; misogynistic; more emotionally damaged than me (which is a problem); potentially or actually abusive; proudly related to drug dealers (again, don't ask); or otherwise worthy of the labels "miscreant," "useless," and/or "disgusting."

I mean, seriously, if I didn't have two law degrees and a lucrative job, I would begin to wonder if I were related to Precious or something, since I'm so clearly incapable of attracting a normal man. Alas, here we are. I have the degrees, the job, a great apartment (shoddy landlord), a gym membership that I actually use the hell out of and a fairly unoffensive visage...and am still incapable.

The point of this post is not to bemoan my love woes, but rather to share with you an experience I had with a "normal" man. Normal is perhaps quite an understatement. By normal, I mean "not an ex-con/not a teenage father"--i.e., somehow "extraordinary" in our horribly mediocre society. I'm talking about someone who did his homework and went to college...someone who bathes and opens the door for women. You know...a demi-god, basically.

Right. So, anyway, I kinda had a crush on this normal guy. A big one. I didn't think he was perfect in any way, but I chose to recognize his personal fabulousness and appreciate that he was contributing to society and not half-bad looking, either. However, I didn't really know him at all, aside from the fact that we had mutual friends and he called on occasion, "just to see how the weekend went." I chose to overlook some things, too, but that's really neither here nor there. And so, one day we met up...

I decided to have green tea, to calm my nerves while I finally got to know this nice, normal guy a little bit...perhaps enough to verify the good things I'd heard about him and to firmly disqualify the bad. It began easily enough: I asked him about himself, and he informed me that he'd done his "research" on me. Interesting. Then, he began fidgeting, and getting nervous. "So...let me ask you a question..."

"Yes?"

More fidgeting. "So, this is kinda awkward...but, I've been wanting to tell you this..."

I take a definitive swig of calming green tea. "What could you have to say to me that would be so serious? We don't even know each other."

More fidgeting and man-giggling, too, now.

Then:

"YO, I'M REALLY HAPPY FOR YOU, AND I'MMA LET YOU FINISH...BUT I'M ONE OF THE GREATEST MEN OF ALL TIME, AND I DON'T WANT PEOPLE TO THINK THAT THERE IS ANYTHING GOING ON BETWEEN US, AND THEY MIGHT, SO I NEED YOU TO DO A HUGE FAVOR FOR ME. CAN YOU, UH...WELL I KNOW YOU DON'T KNOW ME BUT I JUST NEED TO LET YOU KNOW IN ADVANCE THAT I DON'T LIKE YOU AND IF I LIKED YOU I WOULD TELL YOU I LIKED YOU SO LET'S JUST BE FRIENDS. YOU HAVE TO DO THIS FOR ME. HUGE. QUICKLY. BYE."

"Wait...wait...wow..." I pour the rest of my boiling hot cup of green tea into my mouth, scalding my tongue, throat, and chest, and presumably my instantaneously crushed ego and heart as well.

"What?"


"Um," I stammer, grinning on the outside but not on the inside, "did you just break up with me? I feel like you just gave me the 'let's just be friends' speech when we're not even friends yet."


"No, we're totally friends. I definitely want to be your friend."


"Um...okay. Okay--"


"--I just have to have a disclaimer, you know? I don't want drama. And it's lose-lose, because then I look like I assume that you would like me..."

"Who? Me? Think that about you? Of course not! I totally understand where you're coming from..." I'm now sipping my tea, even though there is no tea left, and biting on the cup, wishing I could fit inside of it and be thrown into the trash.

"So..." he takes my hands, which are holding onto the little cup for dear life. "You're okay with just being friends, right?"

"Um, yeah. I'll live," as I actually die inside. "I promise. I'll also try not to tell people that you proposed."

"Good." Wide smile. Plus a chuckle.

Smile. No chuckle.


To everyone who reads this entry, there is a high probability that you know me, so... IF I AM REPULSIVE OR GROSS OR SHOULD KILL MYSELF, PLEASE LET ME KNOW, BECAUSE THE MESSAGE THE NICE, NORMAL GUY SENT ME WASN'T LOUD OR CLEAR ENOUGH, AND I MIGHT STILL THINK TOO HIGHLY OF MYSELF.

Could you just do that for me? Huge. Quickly. Bye.

In the meanwhile, I'll just continue to be dazed and confused. And humiliated. But only just a little.