Here's another story some of you have heard before.
Many years ago I worked at a TV station in another city. There was a woman there to whom I was rather attracted, but she was in a relationship, and I got no sense at all that she had any interest in me.
One day she was complaining about something that had happened to her during the day, and I made some smartass remark about it. She looked at me with narrowed eyes and said, "Eat shit, mcarp."
I naturally assumed that meant something along the lines of 'I actually have the serious hots for you, and now I'm overcompensating because I don't want to admit it to you, or even to myself.'
As it turned out, that's not what she meant at all. What she meant was, 'eat shit.'
You must remember this,
A sigh is just a sigh,
'Eat shit' is just 'eat shit.'
That was an important lesson for me, though, in understanding the difference between reality and my own wishful thinking, which, when it came to romance, often got the better of my common sense.
Later, I learned there are some other things women say that also mean "eat shit."
When a woman says, for example, "I've been trying for two years to get you to notice me," that means "eat shit."
If she says, "Here's my phone number – call me," it means, "eat shit."
If she says, "I'd like that. Let me arrange for a babysitter," that means, "eat shit."
If you kiss a woman, and she says, "That's what I've been waiting for," it means, "eat shit."
If she says, "You're everything I look for in a man," it means, "eat shit."
So now I pretty much assume any flattering thing a woman says to me is actually her saying, "Eat shit. You're such a clueless fuck, you don't even realize I'm actually making fun of you."
Yes, I realize it. I just don't know any graceful way of responding to it.
At least that woman who told me to 'eat shit' actually expressed her true feelings, instead of yanking me around for weeks or months.
5 comments:
Just tell them:
"I can't POSSIBLY eat any more of your shit. I have to watch my waistline."
Then you will have achieved true communion between yourself and the female.
You're welcome.
mcarp,
If you really want a woman you should develop a more robust sense of humor and ability to laugh at yourself.
Additionally, know your place. When/if you find a lady who will date you, and the relationship progresses, never ever allude that she may be, uh, less intelligent than you are, less cultured, or otherwise not worthy of your attention.
I"m not saying you have to blow sunshine up her ass all day, but just accept the lady for what she has to offer and relax about everything else.
Also, ephemerial, see I don't even know how to spell that, is a little ridiculous as a requirement. Drop it.
Warm and affectionate is really what you you're gunning for I would guess.
No one has said, "Eat shit and die writhing?" Must be the E.Coli.
BTW Ephemeral means lasting one day. MCarp's ephemerals all seem to be anorexic, too, so, I'm flummoxed. There's mayflies. . .
He's met his soul mate and she him. However, they can't see each other across a table as they are both thinking of some other standardized model with a skinnier chassis, butter soft stretched leather, a pure heart, and oodles of good mental health.
Soartstar
Actually, good mental health doesn't seem all that attractive to me.
However, you're never too old to learn, and I didn't know the word 'ephemeral' meant 'lasting only a day.' I always thought it meant 'fleeting,' or 'wispy'. I also found out a few years ago I had been mispronouncing it, with the accent on 'mer' instead of 'phe.'
But I think the word to which Miss Appalled is actually referring is 'ethereal', which means, of course, Stevie Nicks.
Miss Appalled, most people I meet are less intelligent than me. It's a circumstance of genetics, involving no achievement on my part. But it does limit my options for stimulating conversation. On the other hand, I am not at all cultured. I am borderline poor white trash, and I'm not ashamed to say so. I'm a last vestige of that era when a person could sort of start to move up a few rungs, before the VRMF's (Very Rich Mother Fuckers) started pulling all the ladders up into the treehouse.
My soul mate? I don't have one. I thought I had one, once, and some of our mutual friends thought we made a great couple. She had other ideas, though.
Wow.
Lots of thinly veiled rage in this post, the comments and MCARP's followup.
Let me observe (neutrally, I hope) that MCARP has many relationships with women: Miss K, Soartstar, Lynne X, Kat and Rena P, all spring to mind, among others. They may not be "soulmate" romantic sexual dating whatever relationships, but they are relationships nevertheless.
I would additionally observe (again, I hope neutrally) it's somewhat difficult to defend a separate category of relationship between men and women other than the relationships I've mentioned.
In this culture, we seem intent on constructing a different category under different labels, but when we do, it always seems to lead to troublesome distinctions and expectations.
In my experience, one of the reasons there are so many troublesome distinctions and expectations is that we load up the distinct category of relationship with our sexual fears and taboos, body image shame, Freudian stuff about our parents and their relationship, and on and on. Then, we ice that cake with a whole metric buttload of Romantic and sugary icing we get from bodice ripping novels and chick flicks. Oh, lets add some carcinogenic John Wayne strong but silent food coloring and spices. It's a half-baked recipe for disaster.
Finally, because we're Americans goddammit, we have to define success and failure and measure our humanity on the basis of how much of this shit we can eat.
I now resign from this debating society because the only way to win is not to play.
Blogblah
Post a Comment