"An autobiography is only to be trusted when it reveals something disgraceful. A man who gives a good account of himself is probably lying....."
Monday, April 12, 2010
Adventures in Pretenti-ery-nous-ness-ity
I headed out with my buddy in tow. My mood was light. I had put behind me the colossal letdown of my fight being canceled. I was determined to have a good time and be merry.
My faith in humanity and life was misguided.
I stood @ the bar. I ordered a PBR. Some girl with a predictable "Save the Ta-Ta's" shirt (and boobs not worth saving), cracked a harpy smile and said, "PBR? Really?"
Internally, I thought, "Save the Ta-Ta's" really? I bet you'll comment on how some guy started at your tits with no consideration of the words printed on your shirt at some point tonight."
I took it in stride as a shit test/opener or as her being a pretentiously predictable ****** girl. I was right on both counts as I would find shortly.
"Yeah. Is that a Coors?" motioning to a beer she had ordered amongst some other drinks for her friends.
"No, I'm a whiskey girl."
"How much that run you? 7 bucks? Guess you can put a price on a good time."
"Don't be cheap."
"Pragmatic would be a more accurate adjective."
She regarded me for a second then checked her phone. I did not look away.
Her friend nudged her way in as Ta-Ta shirt extended her hand and introduced herself. I took my window and with a smirk and faked an androgynous guy voice, "and what do you do in this metropolis that is ****?"
It was like she couldn't wait to inform me she worked in *****. You could tell she was all proud she had a real job, unlike her friend(s).
"How's that working for you" I asked with a flat voice.
"Blah blah blah blah"
Her dark-haired friend grew restless that I hadn't bothered to acknowledge her, so she joked my argyle.
"Is that necessary?"
She pretended not to hear and stared into her shiny phone.
"Y'know, if he wanted to be here, spending time with you, he would be."
She looked up in slow motion.
"Seriously. He would be here if you were important to him. But then, that's not what you want. You need him to blow you off just enough so that internally you think he's cool enough to deserve playing just the tip. Maybe he's got you figured out. Maybe he's making out with some girl and doing lines in a bathroom down the street. Or not. Who knows?" I said with a shrug.
Headed into the night, drank some more. Slept it off in my car. -- The gender arms race of who's too cool for whom has gotten out of control. Girls now joke guys for being well-dressed. Guys resent girls that give them a playful shit test b/c they are so used to being legitimately run through the inquisition just for making conversation. All this is detracting from the objective. Guy and girl meet. Connection ensues.
I could have joked her appearance with my acerbic wit and critical eye but why bother? I could have adjusted to the frame, gone with a mild neg, and reframed.....but why bother?
Going out with zero intention of pulling has changed my objectivity in viewing things. I've seen far more 0's and 1's/binary code/matrix than before. My observations are untempered by desire/lust/pressure.
My observation for awhile now have stemmed from a cold, analytical stare at social dynamics in field.