my kind of lovin

"Oh, so do you usually have women throw themselves at you?"

Someone recently asked me this. No, as it happens, women don't generally throw themselves at me. Because of how I am, how I grew up and all that, I look for signs. Body language, a reaching out, something said. Stuff like that. I generally do not make the "first move". I wait for women to throw themselves at me.

Well, kind of.

When I was young, a sophomore in high school, I was much geekier then I am now, or even back when you and I first met, whenever that was. I also didn't have an amazing amount of confidence when it came to girls. One time, I screwed up my geek-nerve, and asked a girl out. Dawn Baccini. She was hot in a 1984, big-hair kind of way, straight out of a Twisted Sister video. And she was a freshman, ripe for the plucking.

I'd never asked anyone out before. I was terrified. Up to that point, the only real experience Id had with women was a long make-out session with a neighbor girl when we were in first grade, and then in third grade the sister of a friend who loved to show me her, well, you know.

After third grade, there was a bit of a dry spell. Until sophomore year high school. But there I was, a sophomore, in between 2nd period Typing and 3rd period Spanish. I have no idea what compelled me to ask her out, there in the hall, with witnesses.

I had -no- plan. No car, no license, no idea of what to do... just that I wanted to do it, with her. I was crazed with adolescent fervor. So I blurted it out, and she smiled, nervous, and said yes. the start of something truly beautiful.

That next day, our relationship came to a spectacular, tragic end.

We rode the bus together. Well, rather, we rode on the same bus. But given my bravado and display of raw nerve and manliness the previous day, I felt a change was in order. She got on the bus, and sat in the seat ahead of me, instead of next to me.

I was puzzled. Vexed. Why not sit next to me? Was I not A Man, a Colossus, striding the earth?

"Hi Dawn," I mumbled, feeling much more confident then I sounded. She turned around and said hi, and looked at me as if waiting for me to say something. I cant remember the exact words I used, but they were something to the effect of "since you're my girlfriend, why don't you sit next to me?"

An aside, here. I'm not sure what part of the brain is responsible for this, but I think we all have an uncanny knack for sensing when a Record Needle Moment happens. Such a moment occurs when, if there were music playing in the background somewhere, as if in a movie, the action onscreen unfolds in such a way that a Record Needle Moment takes place. As if to accent the abrupt and heart-stopping shift of cosmic forces that just occurred, a sound of a record needle can be heard dragging across an album, the very album playing the music in the background of the scene. Now after that soul-distorting sound, a pervasive, heavy silence fills the area. Such a silence could be physically worn, as a blanket. Everyone in the scene ( or in my case, on the bus ) is looking at the main characters. Focused with intent so sharp, its as if they were all trying to melt my head with their heat vision.

I had such thoughts, as a high school sophomore.


Anyway, it was a Record Needle Moment. The music stopped, and despite her being a Freshman, and me being something akin to Pharaoh in my own mind, she said with perfect clarity so everyone on the bus could hear:

"Just because I said I'd go out, doesn't mean I'm your girlfriend."

There was some laughter, some pointing. I'm sure my face turned as red as my hair, which was pretty red, at the time. I sat my no-longer-Pharaoh ass back down in my seat, and began working in earnest on my next dry spell. One that would carry me to halfway through Junior year.

Then at last the pendulum would begin its swing, and I would Walk the Way and ascend to become the incarnation of Catcher Block, Ladies Man, Mans Man, Man about Town.

Or something like that. : )~

Anyway, Snap back to reality, Oh there goes gravity Oh, there goes Rabbit, he choked He's so mad, but he won't give up that Easy...

Sorry, Channeling Eminem there, for a moment.

Back to the present, as I was shaped by such things in my past, I have a tendency to take a very subtle approach to getting close to women. This has developed into what a friend of mine calls the Logic Mac, another naming the same mojo the Jedi Mind Trick. Basically, I am as witty, charming, personable, compassionate and curious as I can be. This is normal for me, and requires no acting or posturing on my part. It is simply who I am.

As many, many men are idiots, over time ( sometimes an afternoon, sometimes a bit longer ) the Logic Mac overcomes my inherent nerdiness, chunkiness, paleness, or whatever, and I start getting signs that someone I am interested in is in fact interested in me as well. "We should go out some time," or "You should come over and see my new bikini," or "If you spanked me, would you tease me, or really whack me hard like my Daddy did?" being just a sampling of how things have gone, in the past.

I wait. I don't ask first, I don't press myself. I just act normal, show my interest, and wait for things to take their natural course. Not rocket science, and not exactly a foolproof plan, but its worked well enough for me over time, and I have very rarely been in a position where I mis-stepped. I don't generally take risks, I wait for things to become obvious, then I take a step or two.

The vision of the Bus Incident still looms in my unconscious somewhere, I'm sure. Don't assume. Don't take flying risks. I do sleep, but still, the dreams come.

The lambs are still screaming. ; )



Lately Ive undergone quite a change. It might not seem like much to some, but for me, its epic. The older I get, the less I care, and the more bold I get.

So far, this seems to be working out well. No Record Needle Moments, lately.

Nor have I had women throwing themselves at me, exactly, but I am getting a much better understanding of my position in the universe; as far as relationships and interaction and my personality go. They ( women, chicks, girls, and so on ) are not at the center of things. I myself am not at the center of things. But we seem to do a complex and elegant little dance.

And like orbital mechanics, if you take the time to pay attention and do a little math, certain wonders reveal themselves.


Did I just compare getting together with someone to studying orbital mechanics?


Jesus. : )

Look for a blog entry visioning the dance of the hookup through Kepler's Laws of Planetary Motion.