August 24, 2013

Life lessons & Mexican-i-don't-care.

There was this conversation tonight, as I stood in a field while it rained.

I was there with my face all dolled, the way you do your face before a date, regardless of what you think of the person who's to pick you up, and anyway, I stood there, in the rain, with my face like that, and I played Mexican Horse Shoes with a person.

He asked me if I knew of any fields close and there was one up the road, just past the canal, I said. When we got there, I paused before taking my seatbelt off to examine raindrops on the windshield. I didn't want to get out of the car and I didn't want him to talk to me. I didn't want anything to do with anything but Grey's Anatomy and a tall order of curly fries, but, I digress. I was there, and I got out of the car.

There was talking and some form of laughter, I guess. It wasn't the deep, hearty laugh that you feel the next morning in your abdominals, but he looked like he was trying too hard when he threw those golf balls at the target, so it made me laugh a little. And if you have no idea what any of that means or what the premise of Mexican Horse Shoe playing even is, I commend you for being normal. Also, you should know that he asked me about art and when I mentioned Michelangelo, he went off on the orange ninja turtle and whenever something like this happens, it's been said that somewhere in the world, an art historian draws their last breath. I believe that with my whole soul.

The point is, we endure first dates to learn more about ourselves and not to have a good time.

He criticized me for my bad aim and the way I wasn't even trying to win. That was when I stood firm in the mud, my body misted in rain dew, and told him that I wasn't much of a game player, that in fact, I hated games and that my mind worked in words and that sometimes I read the dictionary for fun.

And after that, I went silent.
I didn't care what he thought of that because I wasn't interested in anything he thought about me, anyway.

So, he took me home and it went down in history as, perhaps, the most uncomfortable date I've ever been on. But I learned something new about myself and that made the horse-shoe thing worth my time.

I don't like games, but my brain works in words, and that's useful in dating.

1 comment:

  1. Way to speak your mind. I'm not much of a game player either... Which I guess is why I have seriously had THREE terrible dates at Boondocks? Boondocks is my H-E-double hockey sticks.


i like words. and you. write me a few?