Monday, November 26, 2012

Crushes, Part 4

Time frame = 10th-12th grade
Code name = Sandiego
Sandiego is a crush that I knew I’d have fun writing about because the memories of her are almost exclusively positive.  I listed the timeframe as spanning 3 years because the crush existed throughout most of high school.  There were other girls I might have been more focused on at specific points during high school so I could avoid putting all my eggs in one basket.  Still, Sandiego was always lurking in the background of my thoughts.   I think I set my sights on Sandiego at first because she was new to the school district when she arrived sophomore year.  It was always my contention that I was fighting an uphill battle with most girls in our high school because we had progressed through the school system together.  They knew my story and had formed an opinion about me, fair or not, that was unlikely to change.  With Sandiego, I had a chance to show off the “new” me to someone who held no prior prejudices.   It was only when I got to know her that my crush started gaining some momentum.

Obviously there was some physical attraction I felt towards Sandiego but that was never the key selling point for me.  She was smart and, I can’t stress this enough, she willingly talked to me.  Based on other crushes I’ve had, sometimes I wonder if that’s all it takes for a spark to ignite.  I can just see the women who are reading this making a mental note to give me the silent treatment going forward to ensure I don’t get the wrong idea. Yep, these blogs are doing me a lot of good.  I don’t want to imply that I was a complete outcast bereft of friends and incapable of holding a conversation with girls.  I had my clique like everyone else and I could almost hide the nervous apprehension that consumed me when talking with the opposite sex.  Sandiego talking to me was somewhat of a big deal though.  While I would stop short of calling Sandiego an A-lister in terms of social status at Peotone, there was some overlap in the circles she ran with.  Not many above me in the social ladder would give me the time of day unless they needed something.  Sandiego did and so did Ashley Blake, which is why I hold them in the highest regard among females from my graduating class.  There was nothing phony about either of them.  There are probably others that I could give a shout-out to if I gave it more thought, but those are the first two that came to mind. 

The first memory I have of Sandiego would seem to portray her as just another one of those stuck-up popular girls who considered me as nothing more than an afterthought.  Peotone has an annual fall festival and it usually occurs within a few weeks of the start of the school year.  Each fall sports team (I played soccer) was mandated to volunteer a set amount of hours towards cleaning up at the event.  So I had an hour shift which was spent emptying full trash cans and picking up litter.  During my shift, I encountered Sandiego and some other girls hanging out at the festival.  Eager to make conversation, I strutted over.  If memory serves, Sandiego played volleyball that fall.  So she too would have had to help clean at some point and understood the responsibilities I had.  She proceeded to throw some garbage at my feet and mockingly told me to pick it up.  This elicited a chorus of laughter from the group.  I tried to play along and avoid the hanging cloud of embarrassment before slinking away.  Since Sandiego was new to the school, it may have been a calculated move to gain favor among her posse.  It was later suggested, by her, that it may have been a lame attempt to flirt back.  I had to chuckle because that really resonated with me as something I would have tried if the roles were reversed.  OK, so it wasn’t a great start with this crush, but it was nothing I couldn’t recover from.

While the garbage incident may be the first memory, it isn’t the defining one.  To me, it has always been nothing more than a humorous anecdote I can pull out of the closet when recalling my formative years at Peotone High.  Hey, remember that time…  Not surprisingly, Sandiego didn’t remember this insignificant event when I casually reminded her of it a few years after it occurred.  As it haps, I should have just kept my mouth shut on this one.  Earlier this year, out of the blue, she expressed deep regret over being mean to me (even though she wasn’t) in general back in high school.  She referenced a conversation she had with her sisters about things they would change from their past.  Apparently, the first thought that came to mind was me and this silly little incident.  There was even sleep lost over it. Say what now?

Needless to say, I was shocked, humbled really, that I would hold such a considerable place in her memory.  The FIRST thought?  But how could this be?  I’m Dave Younker and I don’t have a lasting impact on non-familial females, be it for positive or negative reasons.  I’ve lived my whole life under that presumption.  If admissions suddenly came to light that would suggest otherwise, it would undoubtedly rock the very foundations on which I have built my fortress of solitude.  But I had to take Sandiego at her word on this one, didn’t I?  There was really no reason for her to divulge her shame and assign it the level of importance that was communicated to me.  If it was the truth, maybe she felt I had a right to know.  Regardless of her reasons for sharing, inevitable guilt engulfed me.  It was clear Sandiego needed a reminder about her good standing with me and I did my best to assuage any doubts she may have had.  I assured her that she was (and still is from what Facebook tells me) a wonderful human being who is both a loving wife and mother.  It’s ridiculous that she would even question that.  My sentiments were not lip service; I meant it.

Now I will say that Sandiego’s confession was in response to one of my standard self-indulgent Facebook questions.  Therefore, maybe it wasn’t guilt-driven at all but a step towards self-preservation.  I was having a public internal debate about whether or not I’d like to be given access to a list of everyone that may have had a crush on me at some point. (I know that list could be blank and make for a very depressing read.  It was a point in the ‘No’ column of that debate.)  Hmmm, now that I’ve stopped to contemplate it, I’m not giving these girls I’m writing about any choice, at least when it comes to me.  I have penciled my name in on each of their respective lists.  Um...sorry?  Sandiego pointed out, perhaps rightly so, that you could go bat-shit crazy (my words, she’s above such language) playing the “what if” game should you be privy to such a list.  Where I’m going with this is wondering if she tried to connect this question to some lingering unhappiness from my past and that unhappiness to some grudges and those grudges to her.  Rest assured Sandiego could not have been further from the truth.  I’d also like to calm anyone else reading this that feels they may have wronged me.  I’m not maintaining a list of enemies, but I will use this opportunity to work some ELO into a blog.

Sandiego was on the high school track team.  The great thing about high school track is you often don’t have to be very good to make the team.  There’s usually a spot for any warm body that enjoys running and/or jumping.  In fact, in my case, there was even a spot for someone who didn’t care all that much for either.  Peotone, with its gravel track and upstart program, was practically begging for members.  In addition to Sandiego, I had a couple friends on the team.  No doubt about it, I was very much there for the socializing.  It was quite the annoyance when I’d have to interrupt whatever stimulating conversation I was having so I could get shellacked in some quarter-mile or half-mile relay.  I can only remember going to 3 meets and some isolated practices.   Even the chance to talk with friends or flirt with a girl could only carry so much weight when faced with the dreaded running that had to accompany it.  Honestly though, I don’t remember flirting very much with Sandiego during track-related activities.  Sandiego was much more serious about the whole track thing than I was (obviously), and she was good at it even.   It would be fair to say I was too scared to make a move had too much respect for her dedication to running and didn’t want to be a hindrance.  Anyway, my parents have these blown-up pictures of a couple sports teams I was on during my junior year, and they hang in the basement.  Whenever I see the track one, I have to pause for a second and wonder what in the hell I was doing there.  A quick scan of the faces in the photo and I remember why.

Sandiego and I had countless chats via AOL Instant Messenger.  Yes, ChunkMan3 had a pretty good run.  Sometimes I wish I could go back to those days and rekindle those conversations.  Not just the ones with Sandiego but all the screen names I have so indelibly ingrained in my brain.  I don’t have any specific conversations with Sandiego that come to mind, but the overall collection makes the time period one I can recall with fondness.  A faceless chat wasn’t the extent of our relationship outside of school; we did hang out as friends a few times.  One of the activities we engaged in was Scrabble.  Naturally, I’m drawn to any game of intellect as it provides a chance to show off my wares.  It’s one of the few attributes in my bag of tricks that could* potentially impress a girl.  Unfortunately, my battered ego must admit that Sandiego beat me more times than I beat her.  Come to think of it, I’ve played Scrabble against a few girls, and I’d venture to say I have a lifetime losing record.   

*I guess there’s really no ‘could’ about it.  So much for that feather in my cap.  Can my relationship ineptitude really be boiled down to a lack of vowels and some misused X’s?  I better stick to something I can handle then.  Maybe I can interest one of you ladies in a game of Risk perchance?  Eh, who am I kidding?  I’d just try something cleverly stupid like attacking Asia with the intent of actually maintaining possession of it for more than one turn.  The moral of this piece of the story though is that I like girls who are willing to play board games or card games, and Sandiego was kind enough to oblige me on a few occasions.

In hindsight, there may have been one opportunity to make a move if I wanted to.  My parents have a hot tub at the house which would seemingly be a great asset at one’s disposal.  I wish I could say I’ve made better use of it over the years, but the promise of pulsating jets of warm water hasn’t been able to substitute for the words I can never seem to say.  One time Sandiego decided to take me up on the offer when she was over hanging out.  I can honestly tell you that I had no ulterior motive when I made the request.  We were just friends and I didn’t have any expectations.  I just saw it as two friends sitting around talking and making convenient use of a hot tub.  My memory is unable to recall the buildup but the conversation somehow progressed into back rubs.  Knowing me, I’m sure it was Sandiego’s idea.  Nothing more happened that night and that was the extent of any physical contact I had with her.  I don’t know if that was a missed signal and I don’t know if whatever chance I had died that night.  If it did, I don’t need to know for any closure and I won’t lament over it.  All of these crushes I’m writing about are squarely in the rear view mirror.  Whenever a crush runs its course, I summon the ghost of William Tecumseh Sherman to scorch that landscape of my heart and salt the earth behind him.

So why didn’t I ever try for anything more?  Isn’t that always the million dollar question?  Sandiego was my most important crush in high school, but she was also someone I considered a friend.  Those crushes are always the easiest to maintain but the hardest to advance to a new level.  Another contributing factor may have been the feelings of Otm Shank.  It was no secret amongst our band of brothers that he had a thing for Sandiego.  Actually, the poor fellow couldn’t decide if he liked Sandiego or her sister more.  Probably whichever one was paying attention to him more at the moment.  There is no doubt Otm Shank was more aggressive in his pursuit of Sandiego than I was.  Basically, we took exact opposite approaches.  I am passive with girls and treat potential interactions like a chess game, positioning the pieces to try and force the female to come to their own conclusion about me - the one I so desperately want them to but would never suggest.  The Otm Shank I remember would employ over-the-top antics and misguided gestures of interest.  I never felt like I was directly competing with Otm Shank for Sandiego though, partially because I doubt he knew my feelings.  If he had made any headway with her, I probably would have been happy for the guy because we were part of the same clique.  Furthermore, I didn’t want to be seen by him as a potential threat.  Anybody that remembers Otm Shank knows that he was much more bark than bite, but he was also good chums with assholes who would have had no problem making my life uncomfortable.  I just didn’t need to run that risk. 

Yeah, I just threw Otm Shank under the bus a little bit there, but I’ll call us even now.  I always thought we were friends, but I’d find out years later that the guy would trash me whenever I wasn’t around.  I’ve never known why.  The point of this isn’t to air past grievances however and I have none to announce anyways.  I hear he’s married now and living in Florida.  Like Sandiego, I can only assume he’s happy with how things turned out.  Everything works out the way it’s meant to and I wish him the best success in whatever he’s doing.

I sincerely hope I haven’t overstepped any bounds here by bringing any of this information to light.  I do worry these blogs will do more harm than good.  None of the blogs in this crush mini-series NEED to be written; nobody really gains anything from these revelations.  I’d feel more comfortable writing these things if I had a steady relationship of my own to point to (ideally marriage) because that would presumably remove any suspicions that the main subject has about my reasons for writing them.  That relationship just isn’t going to happen anytime soon and you’ll have to trust my intentions.  The purpose of all my blogs has always been to provide a window into my past and present frame of mind and to give the readers some (hopefully) cheap laughs at my expense.  On the plus side for Sandiego, I can probably count my loyal blog followers on one hand.  Furthermore, the chances that any of them correctly identify her identity are next to none.  I must admit that the previous crush recognized herself and I’d certainly expect Sandiego to do the same if she reads this.  As I’ve said in the past, if you’re dying to know more about anything you read, all you need do is ask.  I’m an open book.  It’s funny; most girls claim they want their man to be more emotionally available.  Bet this makes you think twice.  To the relief of every female out there, I think I can safely say that I only have one more crush after this which warrants writing about. 

4 comments:

  1. So, what does "self preservation" mean? In context, of course.

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    1. I was trying to suggest (jokingly of course) that maybe I was seen as someone like Steve Buscemi in the video clip attached to this blog. Therefore, in an effort to protect herself from any harm, Sandiego proactively reached out to me in an apologetic manner. It would have played better if I could have found a clip that also showed the preceding phone conversation. Or it may have made sense if I were, say, a better author.

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  2. Ok, then confidence abounds in providing the initial response to this entry. And, it is more likely that your reader is a little slow or over analytical. In any case, the 'referenced familial conversation' was true and the lost sleep was true, but 'the post' was just a nudge to encourage the confession which was being held back by embarrassment and shame. It did not conjure fear of being on a Billy Madison target list. The sentiments were not lip service. And, by all means never was there any intention of putting guilt on you. How did that even happen? What did you even have to feel guilty about? That is confusing.
    Next, a cap can be deserving of a feather even with a few losses under one's belt, especially if the losses were against a good opponent and all moves were as well played as possible. A talented player can always find someone to beat, but what fun would that be to always win? Are you not seeking out the company of people capable of providing entertaining, intellectual stimulation? Sometimes good players aren't accustomed to a more evenly matched game and it takes them off guard. This says nothing about a person's true abilities, just the quality of the company they keep. If you had not put the scrabble record out there the win/loss balance would have been forgotten forever, at least by one of your former opponents. From the other side it was remembered only as a fun challenge. So don't give credit where it isn't due, it was not kindness that drove the desire to play, just selfish enjoyment. The same holds true for any other game, including Trivial Pursuit, although that record definitely stands in your favor. Anyway, put the feather back in your cap.
    While there are boundless thoughts and comments about OS that could be written here, it is better to leave them floating around unsaid... for self preservation. Honestly though, hopefully what you have said is true about him being happily married in Florida and also that his bark really is bigger than his bite.
    Finally, I thought some of this fell outside of those years? I am only questioning this for my own sanity because my memory is (obviously) bad. I thought the second half of paragraph 8 and paragraph 9 were later, during college years? During a summer/winter break or something like that? Maybe it was just before going away to college, which would make sense. Time has sort of blended together for me though so it very well could just be my imagination that it happened later in life. I guess 'when' doesn't really matter.
    While there were a few laughs, none of them were cheap. It was nice to listen to the story from the other side. It was a little strange, giving the feeling of visiting a parallel universe in which things are still the same but fascinatingly are being seen with someone else's eyes.
    Maybe in a future entry you could go into greater detail about the Tecumseh scorching and salting. As happy as present day situations are, I bet a lot of people have a few 'old school' raw spots that could be patched up a bit better. It sounds like an interesting technique.

    (P.S. you might have more readers than you think. Is the blog public and do you get a hit count? I didn't stumble upon this accidentally, someone sent me here:)

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    1. Oh boy, there's a lot there to digest (I love the feedback though). Here's the pieces I think I need to respond to. I felt guilty for making you feel bad about your actions, especially when you wouldn't have remembered it if not for me. I think it's my memory that is probably a little fuzzy, so rest assured in your sanity. Some of those events may have happened post-high school. Assigning a time frame of 10th-13th grade for the crush is probably accurate. Maybe I just felt ashamed that it lasted that long and tried to get away with a shorter time period. I'm intrigued by your suggestion about covering the additional Tecumseh details but I'm not quite sure what you're looking for. On the surface it sounds like a dangerous idea, but I guess that's never stopped me before. Finally, I don't have a reliable count of how many people view this. My only real way of knowing is if they comment directly in the blog or on the Facebook link (or like the Facebook link). If someone sent you specifically here, then they probably put two and two together themselves.

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