I'm kidding. (Sort-of.)
I was thumbing through some settings and such on this here site — something I get my team of interns, which I've light-heartedly nicknamed "JTL's Slave Army," to do for me — and I came across the gem reproduced below which I wrote in mid-December of 2006 but never posted. So I guess it's less of a "re-run" and more of an "unreleased classic from the vault." (Yeah, we'll go with that.)
The reason I post this is because a little earlier today, despite my vow of not chasing skirts this summer... well, DB was right, I lasted about two weeks. But, in my defence, the opportunity to strike up a lovely conversation really fell out of nowhere, so I figured I owed it to myself to give it the ol' college try. Moral of the story: NEVER TRY.
Enjoy the vitriol. (I honestly can't remember the incident below that prompted such an angry response. I think it might have been at a staff Christmas party, but I'm not sure where that could've been.)
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Okay. This is what you don't do:
Strike up a great three-hour conversation with a guy. Share anecdotes about your family back and forth; talk about the teaching profession and your role in it; your disdain for most music these days, loud-ass Richmond Street clubs and "reality television." Move closer to him to suggest some sort of interest in him (because you know he's fucking interested in you: if any guy is talking to any girl, and he's single and straight, NEWSFLASH, IDIOT, HE IS TRYING TO PICK YOU UP, ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE HOT). Share an easygoing, witty rapport that you've developed over the past few weeks. Have this conversation alone at a table with a guy while the rest of the guy's co-workers hit the dance floor and have a couple of them (middle-aged women, no less) make gestures to him suggesting, "Dude, awesome! She's totally digging you!" as the pair of you sit on the sidelines.
And then, THREE GOD DAMN HOURS into the conversation, casually drop this into the conversation:
"...blah blah, so yeah, my sister's boyfriend and mine are really good friends, blah blah..."
Even if you can.
And you will.
(Because you did.)
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Actually... now that I think about it, I remember that it was a staff Christmas thing at a local banquet hall, being DJ'd by a former co-worker. I don't remember who the girl was, but I have a suspicion she was a teacher who was at our school for a one-semester thing, filling in for someone. Can't remember who, though. Maybe it's for the best.