The Final Final Chapter

So I really feel a need to defend her. Isn’t it my obligation? Especially after John just started taking shots at her expense, for no reason.

So, ok, I am going to defend her a little bit. (if you have no idea what I’m talking about, please go here and read John’s account, it is totally ok to post mean comments on his blog, or spam, spam is ok too)

So, as a brief review: pretty girl sits near the printers and is the prettiest, and also the best-dressed of my coworkers. I had (past tense) a crush on her. At one point I even asked her out and she said “yes” (longtime readers will recall “the date that never happened”). Then things went downhill, she found a boyfriend, she may have been hooking up with an oafish manager, and the “crush” fizzled. Prior to this weekend’s escapade she was held in not-so-high esteem by yours truly (or, cascadingly). Click here for all the relevant posts.  So…

This weekend I went out with John and Felecia. (Hi guys!). I drove (in my brand new truck) to John’s apartment, where we drank and watched Friends and waited for Felecia. Once she arrived she began to agonize over a cute boy who lives near her and text-messaged her once and should she go to the bar he said he’d be at or would that seem like she was rushing out to meet him or should she call him or text him back or ignore him or what. I gave some very good advice which she did not follow, John gave some really bad advice that she did not follow, but, it didn’t matter because the bar he said he’d be at wasn’t letting anyone in and it was lame. So we went someplace else instead. We drank some more, ate some cheese fries, and John tried (and failed) to rank girls in order of good-looking-ness. John is the worst judge of “yeah, she’s good-looking” I’ve ever been out with, coming in a distant second is my cousin Fred who is legally blind. After that we got kicked out early and needed a new place to drink.. So, now that Felecia’s guy thing was a bust, I proposed we head over to a bar that pretty girl (that’s right pretty girl) frequents.

And it was the BEST THING FOR ME. Or at least I thought so at the time, enough to call Lindsay on John’s phone and leave her a voicemail about a life-altering experience.

We saw pretty girl. I got to point her out to John and Felecia who thought she wasn’t that pretty at all. And also that she was wearing maybe the ugliest and least flattering ensemble possible. And that her hair was limp. I’ve gotta tell you, they were mostly right.

First, she is very pretty.
Second, she totally dresses very well at the office.
Third, her hair almost never looks that bad.
As a concession we can point out that she lives close to the bar, and maybe she wasn’t really trying. I know I wouldn’t if a bar were within three block of my apartment I would be there in pajama pants an old t-shirt and a red sox hat every night of the week, weather be damned, because I don’t need to impress anyone. If some girl wants to get to know me she can decided if she likes my personality.

Which is where my esteem for pretty girl dropped dramatically.

We were there for about five minutes, talking to the pretty girl and her (very drunk and friendly) roommate. Maybe she didn’t look her best. Maybe she was dressed like a  hippie. That isn’t the point. It was what she said. And how she said it. Un-educated. Un-intelligent. Plus, lots of swearing. Certainly way more than any self-respecting southern girl would allow herself to utter. Which leads us to a conclusion that would have been drawn months ago if the pretty girl and I had actually ever gone on an actual date: She does not belong on a pedestal. A college degree does not wipe out a childhood in the deep south (yes, I honestly expected it to).

This interaction also reaffirmed what I have known (and many people realize, as they get to know me): I live in a world of complete fantasy. Complete. Fantasy. There is romance around every corner; depravity only exists in fiction; truth, beauty, and honor are everyone’s ideals, and bad things not only do not happen to good people, they don’t happen at all.

In summation:
The pretty girl is pretty at work, and a undereducated drunk elsewhere.
I am totally delusional.
…

Ok, I’ve lost my train of thought, there might be one or two more summations that need to be drawn, but tough, I’ve rambled way off the trail.
-t


recommended download:
The Shins, Girl Inform Me
Bowling For Soup, The Hard Way