The 30-35-40 Plan, Part 1

“Star of the party.”  It’s a term that a former soccer coach used to describe the role of a certain player during corner kicks.  There are several roles that need to be filled during the setup of a corner kick and he gave these roles names in order to teach us how to stay in the proper positions.  It’s a concept I’ve carried forward to the teams I coach today.  You could be a “runner” or “the garbage man”.  “Star of the party” always sounded the coolest and I took a natural liking to this role. 

As the SOTP, it was your job to NOT get involved in the play and sit at the top of the box and wait.  Many youth soccer players go to where the ball is and not where it is most likely to be, so the role is counter-intuitive.  However, I realized at a young age that the ball often squirts out of the goal area in these situations to the top of the penalty box where a patiently waiting player with a decent leg can fire it back on goal.  Much like at parties or on the dance floor, I do best my work observing from the fringes while most of the action happens amidst the congestion.  I also had a pretty strong leg that I didn’t mind showing off, so I was ecstatic whenever I got tabbed to fill the SOTP role.  So why call it “star of the party”?  Because the star of the party is always late of course; they never arrive on time.  And neither do I.

Yes, when it comes to the party of life, I am one hell of a star.  In fact, people are still waiting for me to arrive.  Other than shoveling food into my mouth and occasionally (especially if you believe my cousins from the South) rattling off sentences in a conversation, there are not too many activities I do quickly.  Similarly, I do not adapt to the changes around me very quickly either.  Technology is a prime example.  It’s always been this way. 

Growing up, we were always one video game system behind everyone.  The day we had a Nintendo to call our own was one of the most joyous days of my childhood.  It didn’t matter that Sega Genesis or Super Nintendo were now all the rage.  When we finally graduated from NES two-button fun to Sega three-button pleasure, there were systems like Sega Saturn and something called Nintendo 64.  “Goldeneye” and its multi-player setup remains one of the greatest games of all-time in my opinion.  We eventually got to experience that ecstasy and I didn’t see the need to upgrade to something like PlayStation or Xbox.  N64 is where the gaming adventures of me and my brother ended.  It’s still hooked up somewhere in our house. 

Heck, I have the old NES hooked up in my room.  She’s a little dusty but she still works…usually.  Back in the day, sometimes you’d have to earn the right to play.  You might have to blow in the cartridge or game console a few times.  You might have to bang it a little or employ another method of choice to overcome the blue screen of death. (I often succeeded using some form of ramming.)  There was always a hint of uncertainty when turning on the system followed by a surge of delight when the game screen appeared.  Kids these days just don’t have that level of appreciation.  Speaking of NES, I’d love to host a “Little League Baseball” tournament some day.  Just sayin’.

It’s not just video games however.  The primary desktop computer in our house is probably at least 15 years old; I remember we got it back when I was in high school.  Bold statement: NO ONE reading this actively uses a computer older than this thing, or even knows someone who does.  My brother chuckles when he recalls a friend coming over to help him with something 6 years ago and the friend referred to it as “ancient” back then.  The monitor and tower are enormous.  The floppy diskette slot seems like a curiously placed opening to discard something like a used gum wrapper, as my younger cousin commented.  The converted USB hub dangling out of the back – necessary to interact with any file storage device created this century – seems comical too.  The machine is in obvious pain every time it is tasked with performing some function as evidenced by the consistent churning noises it emits.  If machines could speak, there is no doubt this one would be begging for the “Office Space” treatment in the pasture out back.  It’s just soooo slow; I don’t know how anyone can put up with it. 

My sister and I got our own laptops a few years ago.  My brother and dad use it sparingly but can handle most of their computing needs on their phones.  But my mom?  She keeps plugging along, apparently oblivious to the world out there.  It’s like if you never watched any television in HD.  If you didn’t know any better, your SD quality was plenty good enough.  Hey, it beats black & white, right?  I don’t know about you all, but I didn’t notice a huge difference when we first made the conversion.  Of course I could never go back now.  The contrast is so glaringly apparent when your eyes are punished with inferior SD picture quality.

I shouldn’t be too hard on my mom though.  As I alluded to earlier, I don’t really have a leg to stand on when it comes to being a modern, civilized man.  Every self-respecting first-world inhabitant has a “smart” phone these days, right?  Not yours truly.  There is still a part of me that actually believes I can survive without any sort of mobile device.  I don’t use it all that often and being completely “off the grid” would coincide with the hermitic tendencies I’m prone to exhibit with friends or every potential female partner out there.  You want me?  Come get me.  However, I must concede that mobile devices make things a lot easier in cases of emergency or when a quick response is needed. 

I’ve really come around on the idea of texting.  As recently as 2009, I made a vow to never send any text messages and refuse to read the ones that were sent to me.  I proposed that anyone who needed to a get a hold of me should use the phone in the way it was always intended.  I felt passionately about this; you can even see my plea in the Notes archive of my Facebook profile.  The real irony in all of this is that I absolutely hate talking on the phone.  Hate may not even be strong enough.  Loathe.  Detest.  Abhor.  I hate calling up people because I always assume I’m burdening them at a bad time.  I don’t know how to properly fill the awkward silent pauses that inevitably arise.  I don’t know when to hang up because I can’t recognize the cues that suggest the conversation is over.  Worst of all, I don’t have the benefit of body language to help interpret the words I hear and qualify the words I say.

So I’ve finally come around and relented to the peer pressures of societal communication, at least somewhat.  It does feel a little bit like the gaming system tardiness of my youth all over again.  Even though I utilize the text message option of phones, I don’t have a phone with internet access.  This always seems to amaze people whenever that fact is revealed, and they almost feel guilty after asking me to do something my phone doesn’t allow.  [Excitedly] Dude, go here and check out this video.  [Subdued, when I inform then I can't] Ohhh, well, when you get the chance, you should.    So maybe when our phones can actually drive the car FOR us to the location we input will I have a phone that can only give me a digital map of that location.  Maybe can I join in on the “Words With Friends” fun, or whatever game is currently in vogue.  Just don’t let me become of those folks who can’t go more than 10 minutes without looking at their phone.  

You know what else grinds my gears?  These “smart” phones have effectively killed the epic bar arguments that used to be commonplace.  Both sides would vehemently defend their position with a multitude of reasons why they were correct.  This would go on and on.  These were fun debates to watch and even more fun to actually be a part of.  Outsiders were brought in as resident experts to support someone’s belief.  Now, someone just hops on their phone and kills the suspense before the dispute can truly materialize.  Knowledge may be power but the mystery was priceless.  What’s funny is that most of you are probably reading this on your phone, and I’m depending on that being your preferred method of digesting information in order to have an audience.  

I could regale you with additional examples of my 20^th century living, but I think just one more will suffice.  Earlier this year I acquired my very first debit card and used an ATM for the first time.  I’ve just always been a cash guy.  There’s a certain comfort level knowing that the transaction has been successfully completed when you hand over the currency.  Plus I think that only purchasing things when I have the physical money necessary to cover the cost has saved me from frivolous purchases.  I understand that debit cards deduct from money you already have, but you think twice about what you’re buying when you have to give up something tangible to get it. 

There is also a lurking fear that I’m going to screw something up when paying by plastic.  At a restaurant, for example, I might write the wrong amount down in the tip area.  Now I’ve either overpaid for some crappy service or I’ve insulted the server at a restaurant I enjoy and my food will have a little surprise in it next time.  Perhaps I might enter the wrong pin number when swiping my card at the check-out line in the grocery store.  The line behind me begins to grow restless, sweat beads on my forehead, and I frantically try to recall what that damn number is.  The pin number fiasco actually happened.  Fortunately, I got it on my 2^nd guess.  Phew!  That was a close one.  In fact, I am 0 for 2 on first attempts at entering the pin number when using that card.  I’ll figure out this process someday.  It still kind of feels a little like stealing when I get something without giving up cash for it.

So there you have it.  The 30-35-40 plan.

Just kidding.  This is only part 1, right?  I wanted to give you a little background to establish that I live my life in slow motion.  Oh, you think all that background was unnecessary, do you?  Well, I’m a verbose fellow.  I’ll take three sentences to say things when the same message could be conveyed in one.  It sure did come in handy for all those school papers with a minimum word or page requirement.  Anyway, back to your phones.  That virtual farm of yours isn’t going to grow itself.

Musings

I've had a few ideas recently for topics that I want to write about, but I haven't been able to fully harness the drive to see those topics through to completion.  I find that my drive usually comes when I'm feeling depressed.  I'm not overly depressed at this moment though, at least no more than usual.  A friend did tip me off to a really good blog with thousands of followers and that did help increase my depression level.  As I read pieces of that blog, I knew this blog will never be that skillfully written nor will it attract that kind of following. 

Anyway, I wanted to get something new out there without having to invest a great deal of time.  You know, it's what TV shows do when they release a clip show with highlights of past episodes.  In my defense, much of the material below is not recycled.  I submit to all of you some very important things I have learned throughout my life.  Some of these things may not apply to you anymore, but all of them should serve as pertient reminders.  Use them to your advantage.  There is no significance to the order; I just started thinking and went until I got tired.  That's when most conclusions happen.

·         When going through puberty, never yell across a soccer field when you can run over to the person and speak at a normal voice.

·         Never fall for someone you work with.  There are enough other reasons to be miserable at work and it’s a lot harder to move on.

·         It’s okay to tell a girl she looks fat in those jeans.  The short-term pain is worth the long-term gain because you’ve established yourself as someone who is honest.  You’ve planted a seed of trust in her mind.  Just don’t qualify your candid jeans response by saying the jeans have nothing to do with it.

·         There really is no such thing as a bad pair of boobs.  What do you call boobs that are saggy, uneven, funny-looking, or disproportionally sized compared to total body fat?  Boobs.

·         Looking at boobs is like looking at the sun.  It’s okay to steal a glance if you’re curious.  Start staring and then you’ve got a problem.  Plus, a girl is dressed that way because she wants you to look.  Completely ignoring her would be doing her a disservice.

·         When playing a buddy in a grudge match of chess, never leave your queen unprotected in the corner.

·         You’re supposed to eat meat.  Human beings didn’t rise to the top of the food chain to feast on leaves.

·         If you experience stage fright when urinating in public places, don’t drink any liquids when you go to Wrigley Field.

·         Don’t quit the basketball team because you missed the first practice.  Forget about being in the coach’s doghouse.  If you’re good enough, you will play.  If you’re slow with an erratic jump shot and can only make free throws when the coach isn’t looking, you were always slated for the B squad anyway.

·         Don’t pair words that sound “cool” when writing a story to impress your friends, especially when you don’t really know what the words mean.  Nobody knows what an unidentified, exploding pussy is.   You might catch your teacher suppressing a chuckle when she confiscates the note, but she’ll never admit it.  And you’re still going the principal’s office.

·         If you’re a nerd, remember you’re a nerd before deciding that Scholastic Bowl is something that would ruin your reputation.  You just might be missing out on an activity you’d enjoy and dominate.

·         It’s always funny until someone gets their eye poked out… but then it’s funnier.

·         Disc golf is a great idea for a first date.  You’re outdoors, there’s plenty of time to talk and actually get to know the person, and you have a fun competition that spices things up a bit.

·         Country music isn’t as terrible as it seems.  It’s not the country your parents know.  Give it a shot.  Besides, alternative rock music just ain’t what it used to be.

·         Cash is king.

·         If you’re witnessing an argument and have no skin in the game, just shut your mouth and enjoy the fireworks.  Neither side needs to hear your opinion, especially the one with more to lose.

·         Attend the bonfire rally at your high school.  Epic events are bound to happen.  Like someone-crashing-into-the-school epic.  You’ll want to say you were there.

·         If you’re a soccer player pulling into a parking lot full of football players, make sure your car doors are locked.  Better yet, park in the side lot.

·         Polishing off a bottle of vodka with 3 others in a 20 minute span is a bad idea.  A really bad idea.

·         Just because you can’t miss, that doesn’t mean the pool below you is a giant toilet when standing on a deck.

·         If you’re on a cruise ship in rough waters and feel compelled to consume a fair amount of alcohol, don’t double your pleasure with a Cuban cigar and play some ping pong for good measure.

·         When Boston is playing at the state fair, take your friends up on the offer to go see them.

·         People always rave about “The Office” but I’ve found it to be overrated.  Steve Carrell is a fantastic sidekick but I have serious doubts about whether he can carry a show or movie.

·         If you’re trying to lose weight, eliminate pop from your diet.  Try that and nothing else.  You’ll thank me later.

·         Always split aces and eights at the blackjack table.

·         Ticonderoga pencils are unquestionably the best brand of pencil.  The eraser is what sets them apart.  It’s a smooth erase that doesn’t leave remnants of the correction behind.

·         If you want to win in Tecmo Bowl, be the Raiders.  Bo Jackson only has 1 play in the playbook, but that’s all you need.

·         Fake guns still look like guns.  Apparently so do Super Soakers.  Remember this when shooting a movie in a public setting.

·         Going to Pizza Hut for their lunch buffet is not advisable if you are participating in three-a-day practices for soccer, especially when the post-lunch practice focuses on conditioning.

·         Don’t believe girls when they tell you they don’t want drama.  Regardless of your flaws, they always think they can fix you if you’re exciting.  Being good looking helps too.  But boring and reliable?  There is simply no cure for that.  Well, I suppose if you’re into personality-altering drugs…

·         If you have the chance to go away to college, do it.  You’ll clip your own wings if you never try to fly on your own.  You might even still be living at home when you’re 30.  There is nothing wrong with a few years a local junior college first though.  Those years are usually general education courses anyway, so you can sacrifice some educational value to save a lot of money.

·         If finishing in the top 10 of your high school graduating class means anything to you, don’t opt for early release during 7^th period of your senior year.  Even if you have no desire to take shop or have no artistic talent whatsoever, bite the bullet and take one of those classes.

·         Hanging on a soccer goal to prove you can do it may seem empowering at the time but spending the last day of your school year indoors while a riveting game of “Capture the Flag” ensues outside is no picnic.

·         Start a retirement plan.  Let the power of time work in your favor.  Set up an automatic withdrawal so you never even see the money.  If your company offers a 401(k) option with matching incentives, max the hell of out their offer.  It’s free money.

·         If your mom tells you to bite yourself instead of biting other children, don’t take her literally.  Biting your wrist is a pretty hard habit to kick and kids can have a field day with a severely calloused wrist.

·         If you absolutely must kick a wall, locate a sturdy, thick patch of plaster before unleashing your rage.  Fathers tend to frown upon holes in their house.

·         If you own a ’95 Thunderbird, reconsider any plans of changing the oil yourself.  If Exxon Valdez spills bother you, take it to a shop to have the work done.  Then write Ford and ask them if it’s even possible to position the oil filter in a less accessible place.

·         There’s nothing wrong with peeing in the shower.  George Costanza understood the intricacies of internal plumbing.  It’s all pipes.

·         Before trying to claim a winning lottery ticket, be sure that it is, in fact, a winner.

·         Don’t leave the bench in the middle of a soccer game to go take a leak in the adjoining woods.  You never know when the starting keeper will do something stupid and get red carded.  Instead of getting your chance to finally impress the coaches with your skills, the next guy will get your opportunity and run with it.

·         A true man’s pizza has no less than 4 different types of meat on it.

·         If you ever find yourself at a strip club, don’t insult one of the dancers.  Also, bring in only what you want to spend and leave your wallet in the car.  Bring cash and not plastic.

·         Everybody has that one hot cousin, whether you know it yet or not.  You just might not have seen him or her in a long time.  Your friends can drool over the picture in your house but you’re not allowed to.

·         Pekin, IL and Peking, China are NOT antipodes.  Don’t try to impress some random chick by spouting this “fact” off within earshot of your college professor.  He’ll launch into a 5 minute lecture and visual demonstration of why you’re wrong when a simple “No” would have sufficed.

·         No one else takes you as seriously as you take yourself. 

·         No matter how good you think your writing may be, there is always someone who is way better at it.  If this depresses you, stop reading blogs.

·         A woman in a ball cap with a ponytail sticking out of the back is a sexy look.

·         Golf is a maddening game.  It’s just a small, stationary ball.  It shouldn’t be so hard to hit it.  When you make great contact, you think you’ve got something.  The next 10 shots suggest otherwise.

·         If a crazy, shirtless old man wanders out onto the golf course claiming you struck a ball into his yard, ask him what kind it is.  When he says “Titleist”, tell him you’re playing Top Flites.   If your ball lands with a loud thud on the roof of an old woman’s house, explain that a bird became petrified and fell out of the sky. 

·         It is possible to play an entire round of golf using only a 5-wood.  It is also possible to have the golf cart driving age increased for everybody if you attempt to park a golf cart in a lake.

·         Fruity drinks are delicious.  I don’t care what anyone says or thinks.

·         If you have a problem with a situation, be sure you attack the problem and not the person.  Don’t let it get personal.  Some people still can’t tell the difference when they’re on the receiving end, but that’s not your fault.  Be sure you employ a little tact in your approach though.

·         Don’t let your past ruin your present.  Don’t spend too much time worrying about the future.  If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

·         If you want to hear god laugh, tell him your plans.

·         Trust your boyfriend/girlfriend until they give you a reason not to.

·         Family is more important than money.  Never let it come between you.  There are lots of ways to make money but you only get one family.

·         When a scalper personally escorts you to the gate and repeatedly assures you of how great the seats are, don’t panic that you’ve just fallen victim to some sort of sting operation.  He might just be a really nice guy trying to earn a buck.

Striding Along On The Path Of Least Resistance

Well, it’s all over now.  In my latest effort to battle all my basic instincts, I have shaved my head.  Let me tell you, I absolutely hate, hate, hate it.  It’s just not a good look for me.  It really accentuates the rest of my facial features and reminds me how unattractive I really am.  So why do it?  I wanted to grow out my hair.  Of course you did.  In this game of self sabotage, it was a necessary sacrifice.  Apparently, the hair on the top of my head is thinner than I remember.  In terms of appearance, I wasn’t done many favors by the powers that be but a full head of hair for life was supposed to be one of them.  No male on either side of my family suffers from baldness, so I’ll be pretty ticked if this recent discovery is a precursor to the classic horseshoe pattern. 

I had announced my hair plans at work a couple days prior to the trimming and a female co-worker told me not to do it.  Upon seeing me for the first time post-buzz, she again voiced her displeasure.  Ha!  If I lived my life according to what women wanted…well, I’d probably be a lot further along.  Anyway, given my disdain for the look, I envision a lot of ball cap days for me in the foreseeable future.  It is probably worth mentioning that the haircut didn’t cost me a nickel; a co-worker offered to do it pro bono.  Accepting his offer probably underscores my frugality but it made it a lot easier to go through with the decision.  He actually did a pretty good job too.

Maybe changing things up with my hairstyle will somehow shift the axis of my universe.  (That's the idea, right?). I sure feel like I could use a change.  I’m struggling to find the joy in the events that have defined me for so long.  Bowling is a prime example.  I just haven’t been having a lot of fun this season.  My game is a mess and I have about zero confidence in my abilities right now.  I’ve never been a big-time strike stringer but I prided myself on solid spare shooting that always kept my scores respectable.  That facet of my game has been erratic at times this year and the huge scores have been far and few between.  It just feels like the ceiling is really low for me right now.  Whenever I feel like I’m throwing it good, I look up at the end of the night and it’s a series in the high 500s or very low 600s. The irony in all of this is that my 2 teams have done quite well this year.  My mixed league team has already wrapped up 1^st place and my men’s league team will be bowling for 1^st tomorrow in a winner-take-all single game match.  

Given the team nature of the sport of bowling, you can once again see why I consistently describe myself as a selfish person.  I should be happy that we’re doing so well.  I’m certainly not unhappy, but I have to wonder if I would be happier shooting 250 in a losing effort than shooting 150 and being victorious.  In my mixed league, I actually have the top average and highest single game score.  My average is basically the same as it was last year so there isn’t any discernible regression.  Still, I very much feel like a big fish in a small pond in that league.  If you saw some of the bowlers, you'd know my feeling is justified.  That is my “fun” league though and there are certainly good times.  My biggest complaint is that despite only being an every other weekend commitment, there’s a consistent problem with no-shows.  It’s really hard to get the competitive juices flowing when you’re bowling against no one.  Anyway, I just need to pull it together for 1 more week for my men’s league; then I can forget about bowling for a while.  Who knows?  Maybe I’ll catch lightning in a bottle.

Softball season is coming up.  I can’t say I have the same drive to play this year for that sport either.  Fantasy sports are in danger of being another supposed "passion" you can cross off the list.  I won $1100 in a fantasy baseball league last year, but I was partners with my uncle.  I’ve convinced myself that it’s mostly due to the effort he put into it.  Cumulatively, across all my teams, it was the worst fantasy baseball season I’ve endured since I began playing the game.  If I have another year like last... Maybe I need to take my “do the opposite” approach to another level and completely re-invent myself.  Is it time for some new hobbies?  Time to scrap everything I once knew?  No more sports?  No more watching the same Simpsons or Seinfeld episode for the 100^th time?  My life may not be on the decline but it’s definitely reached a plateau. 

If you’ve followed me for any length of time, you’ve known my relationship situation.  You now know how disenchanted I’ve become with several of my various pastimes.  I can’t even point to my work as a shining star in an otherwise dark space.  I’m stuck in an uninspiring job with mediocre pay and no real immediate prospects of advancement.  I’ve been there for over 6 years so maybe I’m getting close to having a 7-year itch that needs to be scratched.  Disclaimer for any co-workers for who may be reading this:  My commitment and focus to my job has never wavered and it never will.  I believe in earning the money I get paid.  I’m also grateful to have a stable job in this struggling economy. I guess it’s just not what I planned to be doing or earning at this stage in my life. 

At a company address a few weeks back, our CEO mentioned various job openings at satellite offices such as Phoenix and Tampa.  We were encouraged to look into those openings if that’s something that would interest us.  I haven’t researched what the jobs would entail yet but I’ve fantasized about applying for one of them.  I’d be jumping into the situation head-first.  It’s exactly the opposite of what I would do. Eh, who I am kidding?  I’m not going to do a damn thing about it.  It’s the same reason I’m going play softball again this summer, play the next fantasy sport in season, and eventually get around to starting that Simpsons bracket and documenting my favorite episodes.  It’s what I’ve always done.   If you’re looking for the sure bet, run to your nearest bookie and take the over on me initiating any change.  Finding a woman, getting a house, changing jobs?  Take your pick.  Heck, take all of them.  Applied has called my bluff so far and it’s worked pretty well for them.

I guess I’m just looking for that someone or something to bring some new inspiration into my life, to make me a better man, and allow me to see an incline up ahead instead of just flat ground.  I just don’t see her or it walking through that door anytime soon.  I could convince myself that person or thing just isn’t in this area (believe me, I’ve tried) and run off to Phoenix or Tampa.  But wouldn’t I just be running from the real problem?  Knowing absolutely nobody in either of those areas would all but ensure some long, lonely nights.  At least I’ve got my family and a handful of acquaintances around here to keep me sane and upbeat most of the time. 

Maybe deep down I’m not ready to give up on this area just yet though.  I did recently sign up for Match.com.  However, it would be folly to think I’m putting any real effort into it.  I only signed up for the free version, which means I cannot take any significant action.   I really just wanted to use it as another avenue to lure a whole new audience of women to this blog.  Crap, the gig’s up.  Yeah, I didn’t think this plan out.  I review my daily matches and save the ones that look like they have potential.  I’m still too cheap to enhance my membership and, more importantly, I’m not in a position where I can go after a girl with any conviction.  There’s several reasons which you may know by heart but a large reason is because I think every conversation will eventually wind up with me saying the following:  Let’s go back to my place…It’s currently a single room but I think you’ll enjoy the Little League trophies and wall stickers of the 1992 Dream Team…Oh, my parents down the hall?...Don’t worry about them; they’re cool. Speaking of houses, I guess I have some “progress” to report, at least what passes for progress in my world.  I did visit 3 open houses over the weekend.  Nothing promising though.  Sorry for the melodramatic entry everybody.  At least I’ve been able to stay away from topics like politics, religion, and her thus far.

And just because I feel like it, here’s my current “it” song playing on repeat.  I like to fool myself into thinking that’s me.  The truth is she’d never frequent any of my preferred drinking establishments.

Getting By With A Little Help From Mr. Jefferson

I think the universe is trying to tell me something. At first I thought it was mere coincidence but then I started keeping track.  This phenomenon may date back further but I can only accurately prove its existence based on the last 2 times I’ve gone out.  Now that I’m paying attention, we will see how long the streak can actually last.  So what the heck am I talking about?  The universe is determined to put as much distance between me and women as possible.  I suppose I should elaborate lest you think this is another blog about being jaded in love.  You know, the kind that precedes me getting a cat and listening to Augustana’s “Boston” on a regular loop. 

 

On contraire, this particular development has evolved into a game I’ve grown fond of playing.  There is a law of truth that seemingly never fails whenever I go out to a bar or restaurant.  In a room full of attractive female waitresses, I will invariably draw the solitary waiter at the establishment.  Trust me; he’s the ONLY one there.  I make it a point to scan the room for every other server working the floor (the aforementioned game).  I should also note that if the employment staff is largely split between male and female, it seems like I still get a guy more often than not.  However, given the probability of being served by a dude in that case, it’s perhaps a little unlucky but nothing out of the ordinary.

But always getting a guy when he’s the only one?  Now that’s downright uncanny. It’s like the place collectively feels my presence approaching and makes sure to reserve a table specifically in the guy’s sector.  Or maybe the hostess sees me at the door, makes a split-second assessment of my quality, shoots her fellow female servers an “I got your back” glance, and proceeds to pawn me off to that single guy server.  The moral of this story for my guy friends is that you might want to think twice before throwing an invite my way, if that sort of thing matters to you at all.  Just this very instant, as I finished that preceding sentence, I had a business idea:  I should start bottling my own pheromones and selling them to the gay male community.  I’ve even got the intro to my sappy infomercial:  “Tired of women hitting on you?  Wish they’d just keep their distance?  Have we got the product for you…” 

Sorry for the diversion; back to the matter at hand.  I have nothing against guy servers.  Many of them are competent workers who I tip fairly based on their service.  It’s just that when you go to certain places, an attractive server is part of the expected experience.  However, I will say that when a woman is serving me food and/or drinks, her looks have nothing to do with the tip she is going to receive.  The way I see it, there’s more than enough guys willing to plop down a few extra bucks as a tip simply because their server won the genetic lottery, or at least cashed in it.  I figure those guys got me covered, right?  I really don’t know why I should care so much about who is waiting on me.  It’s not like I’m going to flirt with the girl or try to ask her out or anything.  I don’t need to be another in a long line of suitors. I know better than that.  Or do I?  That brings me to the main point of this blog.

I looked in the mirror recently and I didn’t like what I saw, figuratively speaking (OK, maybe literally too, but that’s not important here).  I have a lot of regrets about things I’ve never done.  These things were not done because my gut and my “rules” convinced me of reasons not to do them.  My life is nowhere close to what I imagined it would be 10 years ago.  Seriously.  I feel lost.  It wasn’t supposed to be this way, I tell you!  I’ve let my instincts guide me thus far in life and I came to the same epiphany that George Costanza once did:  my instincts are shit.  Every inclination I’ve ever had on anything important has been wrong.  Therein lays the beauty of this realization though.  The powers that be have afforded me the opportunity to make the right choice every time.  I merely need to do the opposite of whatever feels right.  “Feels” is a critical word in this newfound approach.  When a choice is obvious and I know what it should be, I’m not going to cast aside all logic and reasoning.  That would be downright foolish.  I’ve made a lot of good choices in life when I have the facts at my disposal and don’t have to rely on my instincts.  Doing the opposite is only going to come into play when an actual decision – a best guess, if you will – needs to be made.  

So I’ve taken some baby steps to unveil this new approach and it’s had mixed results.  Channeling my inner George, I decided to engage our server at Buffalo Wild Wings a few weeks back.  I wanted to get some field test results.  With my friends at the table also listening in, the conversation went something like this:

Me:  Hypothetically speaking, what would you think of a guy who introduced himself as a 29 year-old nerd who still lives at home?  Would he have any chance with you?

BWW Gal:  (Completely willing to play along because she’s probably assuming I was talking about one of my cohorts and trying to prove a point) I’d say no thank you.  I could understand living at home if you were still in school or fresh out of college still looking for a job.  But 29?  That’s not very appealing.

Me:  But what if all of his other qualities were really awesome?

BWW Gal:  I still can’t see it happening.

Me:  So that’s pretty much a deal breaker for you?

BWW Gal:  Yeah, pretty much.  (Starting to fear that she’s going to be on the receiving end of the worst attempt at asking someone out in history)  So what’s this all about?

Justin (my friend):  Have you ever seen Seinfeld?

BWW Gal:  No.

Me:  Sorry to waste your time.  Thank you for your input.

So it didn’t go exactly as I had hoped in but I wasn’t bummed.  I truthfully had no intention of asking that particular girl out; she was cute but whoever was serving us would have been subject to my experiment.  I also have to acknowledge that I did not wholly commit myself to the bit.  There will be future opportunities to really put the theory into practice. 

Those in the service industry come across a lot of people due to the nature of their job.  A guy like me really needs something to distinguish himself.  Several years back, I was tipped off to a clever idea that can be utilized to help reach this end.  Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the $2 bill.   Yes, these are still in circulation; you just hardly ever see them.  It’s a darn shame.  I find the $2 bill to be the most underused and underappreciated form of U.S. currency still out there.  How many times have you needed to make a small purchase that costs a dollar and change?  You don’t have the change because carrying change is just annoying.  Or maybe you want to leave a couple bucks in tip but don’t have any singles.  So you think to yourself, I don’t want to break up this $5, $10, or $20 bill.  If only there was some magical bill that could cover this expenditure?  Then again, maybe this is largely a non-issue for most of you because you don’t pay in cash.  I guess I’m a fossil in that regard but that’s a story for another day.  (I’ve never had any formal writing training or classes but I think that’s called foreshadowing or something.) 

I like to keep a stash of $2 bills at home and bust them out when I feel like trying to make an impression.  It’s actually been a long time since I’ve done this or even had the urge to do it, but maybe it’s time to get back in the game and start doling out Jeffersons to servers.  They typically have one of three reactions, which tell me if they’re worth pursuing:

1. They look confused and question the validity of my “fake” currency (too dumb).
2. They do not acknowledge the unique gesture whatsoever (too bitchy…probably).
3. They laugh and associate me with their grandfather because he’s the last person to give them a $2 bill (close enough, I can work with that).

Despite the suboptimal results of the BWW field test, I still believe doing the opposite has some promise as a theory because I have in fact had some success recently doing just that.  A guy at work asked if I would join a pool to pick UFC fights.  I agreed to join despite the notable handicap of having never watched an entire UFC fight and being able to count the number of fighters I know on 2 hands.  So why join?  When it comes to fantasy sports, pools, or general predictions, I’m a whore.  I’ll get in on as much action as possible (see: my fantasy golf team).  It was a free pool and I didn’t really care that much about it, so I spent very little time and no research making my picks.  I messed around with some strategies for the first couple rounds.  For example, one time I chose whichever person had the more “common sounding” name.  Not surprisingly, none of these strategies hit the mark. 

Then, at my request, the pool organizer included head shots and records of each fighter squaring off.  Armed with some additional albeit limited information, I finally started using my instincts to pick who I thought would win.  The results were comically bad.  You couldn’t even pick that many losers in a row if you tried.  I was running out of ideas and then it hit me.  Whenever a fight involved people I had never heard of, which were most of them, I let my instincts go to work.  I then promptly submitted the exact opposite for my picks.  These results were startling.  By the end of the season, I had ascended all the way to 2^nd place.  A new season has started and we’re one event in.  Yours truly is sitting in 1^st with a decent lead.  This approach has apparently morphed from fluke into a viable strategy.  One of the other guys in the pool has subsequently asked me for “my secret”. 

What can I say?  My instinct really is a gift, even if it comes from the Island of Misfit Toys.  (I think I could listen to any story as long as it’s narrated by Burl Ives.)  So, as long I can get my mind past the debilitating fact that my hunches are always wrong, I just might have some success in life with this new approach.  It might involve living a bit of a lie but no one else needs to know I’m a fraud.  Come to think of it, I wonder if my powers are transferrable.  Have a tough decision you need to make?  You might want to enlist my services.  Now there’s a real business idea.

I Need To Work On My Lying

I was faced with a tough question recently and I’d like the court of public opinion to make a ruling on my response.  After bowling in my mixed league a couple weeks ago, I was asked by a female if I would ever date a woman with kids.  This wasn’t just a random person though; it was a team member.  If you’re familiar with my girl criteria, you know how I should have responded to that.  Of course, it’s one thing to type your true feelings in a faceless blog read by very few and another thing entirely to actually say it when the question is sprung on you, especially when you know the one asking the question has a couple kids of her own. 

Now I know this particular female wasn’t asking me specifically for a date.  The question must have been weighing on her mind though.   Are my children an impediment to dating?  Surely, some other dude must have used them as an excuse not to date her or as a convenient reason to end a relationship that had existed.  This was my cue to paint him as a solitary jerk and restore her faith in men everywhere.  Without the fear of any personal commitment, it should have been very easy to tell her what I’m sure she wanted to hear.  But my criteria!  It isn’t a list I casually compiled; I had definitely given it some thought.  Someone with a kid is on a whole other level of maturity than I am.  We’re just at very different points in our lives.  Moreover, one of the characteristics I want people to appreciate about me is my honesty.  Saying yes to her question would make me a hypocrite.  I had to make a split-second decision but I ultimately decided to just tell the truth.  I told her no and prayed there wasn’t a follow-up asking me to elaborate. 

Much to my relief, it did not put any strain on our friendship but I need to know if that was a dick move.  Is this one of those situations where a lie is actually the preferable response? And while I’m asking questions, let’s take even another step back.  Is my rule completely bogus or should I be entitled to make that a dating criterion of mine?  I know the obvious arguments you can make against the rule.  It’s possible I might be missing out on someone great for me.  It’s possible the kid would grow on me once I got to know him/her.  I don’t deny such possibilities exist.  I’m just trying to make the best possible decision based on what I know, or think I know, about myself.  I never said my logic was logical.

I get the feeling like I’m going to take a lot of flak for this, especially from the female community.  And yet, if I were to tell you that I also don’t want any part of dating a smoker, you’d say that’s perfectly within my right.  Maybe the difference is that it’s unfair to hold something against a person that they can’t change.  You can’t ditch your kid but you can kick that smoking habit with a little desire and fortitude.  Truthfully, I’m probably doing that person a favor by not getting involved.  People with kids deserve someone with a much bigger heart than mine.

Feel free to add your comments below, whatever your take may be.  Seriously, I’m willing to see the error of my ways.