A Matter of Perspective

It’s tough to write about my problems and issues.  While they are important to me, my friends and fellow bloggers are striving through problems and troubles that would try a saint.  I would feel like a complete whiner in sharing some of my issues, which look so pitiful and insignificant by comparison.  A lot the bloggers I “Hang Out” with, are so much stronger than me.  I would probably be crushed under some of the burdens that they carry, one key example being Fringes at www . sarcasticfringe . com / fringehead /   She’s been blessed with wonderful children, but gone through so much in her life, and yet she can still pull a smile out on demand. 

Nor am I in the type of Sarcastic/Humorous mood to write something witty today.  For all intents and purposed, I’ve been nodding off on my computer desk at work all day today, and not getting nearly as much done as I wanted to, because I am just truly exhausted.  Last day off from work (that means hours I spend and get paid for, no matter how much fun I have) was 24 September.  I can’t even think straight.  But I’ll tell you about something that happened this weekend.

I was at work at the festival.  I was doing a little whip routine, cracking it back and forth, when I look out across the thoroughfare and find a beautiful brunette watching me as she browses the shops.  I do a massively exaggerated shrug, spread the whip out, and give her an inviting look.  She calls out,”What, did you catch that look in my eye?”

          “Of Course, milady!  I’d know that look anywhere.”  She laughs out loud and keeps walking, shaking her head slightly in amusement.

          “Don’t run away, milady!  I’ll just catch you on the other side, I PROMISE!”

Our shop is in a fantastic location.  It has doors at both ends.  People that don’t know this will pass by one end, visit the pirate ship, carry on their merry little way, and end up passing the door on the other end of the shop.  So typically, I can usually walk back through the shop quickly and indeed, be waiting in the door on the other side.  It’s nice because it gives me a second chance to pull a customer in on occasion.  So she comes in, takes a look at things, I show here a couple of specific things in the shop, and let her use one on me.  She’s standing close, showing interest, I don’t know how to act, I feel like a flaming idiot about now, and she says goodbye and walks away without me ever having complimented her on her absolutely beautiful eyes that I just collapsed into, and a 14 year old teen from this generation could have handled it a lot better but now its too late, and the chance is gone, and hellfire, I get so tired of getting tongue tied in these situations.

          She walks into the shop later that afternoon.  I tell her its my turn, and demonstrate the item on her this time.  I couldn’t give a flying cow patty about the sale right now, because those eyes are back, and she’s only using the thing as an excuse to stay and talk to me.  On a conscious level I understand this, am pleased and a bit shocked, as happens every time someone of age actually acts interested in me.  I spent too much time in high school as a geek and a laughing stock and a little bucktoothed midget to ever stop feeling a sense of awe when someone is actually attracted to me.  So I see the signs, and I know how I should respond, and I just fall back into those eyes, muddle through it, and manage to say the wrong thing and she’s off again, this time permanently.  I am as unprepared for these kind of situations as I can possibly be at this age.  It’s like being a 60 year old virgin.  There’s just some things you should have learned, practiced, and perfected a long time ago.  But I never had the opportunity to practice and perfect it with anything but a mirror.  I’m lost when it happens, and unless the woman has much patience, I’m generally history in moments.  If I could get past the opening act thing, I’m empathetic and understanding, and if they have a chance to get to know me they always see that good and loving side.  Not too many women have that patience.  Not too many women will make the first move.  And last but not least, not too many women find me that attractive.  Combine those three low percentages, and it leaves little to no percentage chance of getting to know my true colors, much less practicing opening lines. 

          So I normally avoid the situations.  I’ll flirt a lot on a completely shallow level, but never allow myself to get any closer to that Most Embarrassing Moment, thing.  That’s how it goes,  that’s why I’m certifiable, and that’s why you’re reading this, to hear someone else’s problems make yours seem like much less of a burden.  Dream True.

 

Michael