I remember a common occurance in my younger years – seeing an endless variant on boys being playfully mean to girls and having the girls squealing in outrage. Buckets of water tossed on them. Icky spiders tossed on them. Mud flicked at them. On and on and on. It was always something thrown at them that they didn’t want.
I was always appalled because that’s not a very nice way to act. On rare occasion I might say something about it and tell the boys off and tell them to stop being mean, or offer the girls my towel to dry off or whatever. I also struggled to date. No correct that. I couldn’t buy a date with a suitcase of money, my parents’ booze and a limo. Even worse was that frequently…no correct that…even worse was that all the time, the sunbathing girl that got a bucket of water tossed on her started going out with the guy that threw the water.
You treat girls well and they ignore you. You treat girls bad and they want you. That makes no sense. Is the world broken?
So anyway, somehow I got out of the horrible years of teen angst and I stumbled onto a killer technique of getting dates. I would walk in the direction of a girl I was interested in, stand near her for approximately four months to attract her attention, then try not to vomit as I asked her out.
Thanks to the two girls for every guy sex ratio imbalance in the Christian community I was in, I had fabulous success with this method. Over the first year and a bit of dating I smoothed out the kinks and got the standing next to the target down to two months. Just as I got my stuff really together, I met Jennifer and played a devastating aloof game by not kissing her and leaving her country as soon as I met her. She folded baby, she folded.
So anyway, it’s just so nice to be married and not have to run around trying to date and meet people. Plus I’m with someone that likes me for me. The world seems right in that I can do something nice for her and she doesn’t start gazing off into the distance like she’s wondering where she is and how she got here.
We had yet more snow fall yesterday – just a few inches – and I was out shoveling the driveway when Jennifer came home. I stopped shoveling for a moment and walked to the garage door and lifted it up for her, so she could just drive in without having to get out and do it herself. It only took half a minute, but it was nice. She stopped for a second and put the passenger side window down and yelled through it, “Thank you! I love you!”
Which was my cue to toss a shovelful of snow at her through the open window of her car. I just roared with laughter as she squealed inside the car with arms failing about like she was fighting off a bee. Once out of the car she scooped snow out while yelling at me, “You’re EVIL!” I just laughed some more and kept shoveling. Later that night I made her squeal twice more.
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