So, I went out and got in my car and drove to the Albertsons to buy some milk. This is an illustration of how I feel about writing and about sharing anything about myself these days. If there's anything else I can distract myself with, I'll do that instead.
On Sunday I looked at my phone and realized that there was a message from Mark LaRocco. I called him back and he told me that there was going to be a birthday party for a girl he'd introduced me to a year or two ago and he asked me if I wanted to go with him. I guess I was lonely, because I said yes. We arrived at her apartment and there were about five people there. We sat down and I watched Mark talk to people, then the room was filled. A few times girls came and sat down next to me and asked me who I was and what I did, so I told them and when I didn't ask them anything about themselves or try to figure out what we had in common they would drift away. Then this really pretty girl came in and all of the guys in the room immediately approached her like iron filing to a lodestone. It was really kind of funny. It looked choreographed. They all broke their conversations and walked directly to the center of the room where she was standing and encircled her.
After a while she sat down next to me and didn't speak to me. I thought she was waiting for me to speak to her, assuming that because she was the pretty girl that it was my responsibility to be the aggressor and she the defender. I really enjoyed ignoring her as we sat there, less than six inches apart. I could tell it was throwing her that I didn't even look at her.
Finally they cut the cake and I ate a piece, then Mark and I left. As we were getting in Mark's truck we started talking about the pretty girl. He said that he'd gone out with her once before, but hadn't asked her out again because he figured that she was too pretty and he didn't want to deal with that baggage. I told him about how much I'd enjoyed not talking to her, and watching her squirming when I didn't pay attention to her. He said that was kind of too bad because it wasn't that she was conceited, but rather that she was notoriously shy. In that moment I realized that I had acted kind of like a jerk, and also that I'm hopelessly far from being capable of developing a significant relationship with a girl and that I won't be doing so any time soon.
Anyway, that's probably enough about me for just now. So, I guess I should put a picture up. I haven't taken any for the last couple of weeks, but here's the latest of me. There's a good chance you've seen it elsewhere.
4 comments:
Enjoyed the update, Mike. In general, I firmly believe that meet-and-greet-style parties are soul-deadening things. I went to enough parties like that at BYU where everyone's trying to figure out their place and who they want to be talking to and so forth, that I have a strong aversion to them.
Motorcycle, I check your blog practically every second. I personally enjoyed the story. And I echo Peter's soul-deadining comments.
Hurray! Another post by my favorite Mikey!
I...personally...LOVE that curly mustache. Very sexy! On a side...I got so sick of "parties" like that...that I moved 2000 miles away...and then proceeded to attend many more awkward parties. Hmmm....
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