Throwing in the towel

My life is about to get very complicated.

But, quite possibly, infinitely more interesting. Which is good news for blog.

While I was in Super Target on Saturday, 2 things of note occurred. The first, being the intensely obese woman I saw wearing the shirt with a cat on it that stated, "Cute but dangerous." Which reminded me of how much I love those kinds of shirts, and how they are typically worn by a pretty particular demographic. My favorite such shirt of all time, being the 3XL white T with an angry marching duck with a ball cap turned backwards, stating "I'm the boss."

This one, in fact. It is remarkable how this nearly verbatim image was pristinely mummified in my mind for the last decade or so, being that is how much time I am fairly certain has passed since I have seen one of these draping a human torso.

The second pretty great thing that happened, was I received a call from a man friend in New York, petitioning my advice about a date he had with a 55 year old incredibly wealthy dude with a house in the Hampton's. While I found this to be flattering--my advice being sought at the attempted genesis of a very awesomely taboo relationship--I also felt like the only advice I could give, was to do probably exactly the opposite of everything I EVER DO IN A RELATIONSHIP. Or, rather, concerning the attempt to begin one.

He gave me an all too common scenario--he felt like the date went well and great and lovely, but then at the end, Rich Man seemed indifferent and aloof, and left Man Friend with a feeling of, "WTF just happened or didn't happen and how did I do something wrong when everything seemed right, and not even a little wrong, except for the apparently unperceived wrongness at the end of so much right?"

At which point, typical overzealous me probably frets, and then subsequently attempts to pry and probe for possible reasons and motives of disinterest, or I make my thoughts and feelings way too obvious or available. I told him that I hate playing games, and I just like to be genuine with my feelings. Which, apparently, is the WORST THING TO DO.

It would seem members of the opposite (same)sex do not desire clarity and transparency, but rather are drawn to horrible games, reticence, and indifference. This, apparently, fosters interest. Or some such bullshit.

After a time, I began to realize that he and I think the same way about relationships and dating. So I implored him to ignore his every instinct, and do the complete opposite of whatever his heart told him. Because his (my) heart is an IDIOT, and does not know how the (fe)male heart functions. Or, rather, most other hearts, be they male or female.

I think I'm ready to try the asshole card.

Which, I now realize, in the context of this post, sounded like it meant something entirely different than what I meant.

I'm just going to be an aloof, reticent asshole, utterly disinterested in you (girl), devoid of all feelings, to see if that works for me (you).

If that doesn't, I suppose it is never to early to start my collection of 3-4XL Big Dogs and other sundry animals saying clever things shirts, for when I finally decide to throw in the towel and let obesity whist me away into a comfortingly happy existence as a McDonald's acolyte.