RELATIONSHIPS, DATING AND JEANS PART1

achtung: the following is all purly fictional, not to be taken seriously

you know what's so funny about dating and relationships, a lotta people don't realize it but dating is so much like shoppin for jeans.

I met this girl a while ago. she was beautiful. Tall, a nice body and a likable, smiling face. ok. so far so good. then I go out on a couple of dates with her. she dressed meticulously well (as in hours in front of the mirror) so I kinda assumed the dates are gonna be boring and we are just gonna end up talking about the latest Hollywood comedy, and killing time with the dull knife of casual (catatonic) conversation. but no, to my surprise she truned out to be a great conversationalist. Not only she got every little joke and allusion, but we also ended up talking about politics, books, quality cinema. we even hopped on little cynical, self-admiring tangents about the absurdity of the predominant pop culture in the capitalist vastness that is America.

so cool, wow, this seems like it's gonna be a lot of fun.

and then one night we go out drinking. i could see clearly, as the alcohol level in her blood rose it was almost like somebody was slowly pulling back a veil. it's amazing how much you can know about books and cinema and the current socio-economic misfortunes of african countries simply as a sort of fashion accessory. now, that somewhat explains why at her apartment she had books somewhat ostensibly arranged on the table in the livinng room. i'm not saying that everyone who does that is a phony, but in her case it served as a corroboration of my initial hunch. anyway though, the night goes on, we both get drunker, and now i can see, through the foggy windows of my imbibed brain certain signs of hitherto unseen tensions in her. certain compulsive, kinda rude, almost intentionally provocative checking the phone every 5 seconds for received text messages ... the conversation that on previous days flowed as gracefully as a glider on a sunny sunday was now a colossal stone, and i Sisyphus ... flirting with our male server with mannerism so tacky that it even made him uncomfortable.

well, i thought to myself as she sat across me hunched to be able to read a text without taking the phone out of her purse, i guess i misjudged her...it was fun while it lasted. but had i the ability to see into the future i would have known that for the short amount of time that our acquaintance was going to last she was gonna make me pay for the fun i had while it lasted

my car was parked at her apartment, so we took a cab. she asks me to come in, and i comply, not wanting to act wired and be forced to confront her while we are both drunk, tonight. i go in and sit at the sofa, she goes to the bathroom. i kinda don't know what to do. definitly don't feel like doing what i would have felt like doing in the pre-unveiling era of my friendship with her. so i sit there in a limbo, kinda tipsy.
she goes to the bathroom, and i sit there some more, and some more and she doesn't get out so i get up and knock on the door ... nothing. i slowly open the door and there she is standing over the sink, i look closer, squinting. she's crying ... What The Fuck? hey, wtf, are you crying?...why are you acting so wired tonight? she says (now let me repeat myself: What The Fuck? I was acting wired?)
-I was acting wired? i ask in amazement.
i did not see this coming.
-you know what, maybe i should leave. we'll talk about it tomorrow.
-yeah, leave, fuckin leave, be a man and leave.
she has lost it, what is this? so i go towards the door, i am stopped by her:
-don't go, lets talk about this tonight.
i stop, more like a deer in headlights than anything else, she hugs me and goes back in the bathroom. FREAK, i think, ok. i wait for i don’t know how long it was, I was nodding off at this point. She comes out, in tears and say:
-look what do you want from me, what is it you want from me?
I look at her. Who is she, I have no idea.
I leave

and you know what this is kinda like: you go to the store, there is the rack of jeans that says sale in big red letters on it. you're like fuck it they are probably all extra large but i'll give it a shot. you go take a look, and there it is, a pair your size, on sale. you go try them on, they are a little tight, just a little, but you think that will be ok once you wear them a couple of times, and indeed, you wear them a couple of times and they start feeling great. and then one night you go to get into your friend’s SUV and ghrrrrrt, there they go rippin all the way along that line that goes from your butt to the zipper, and you have to walk back home, one hand covering your arse to keep your whitie tighties from being exposed to the strangers on the sidewalk, and get into the good old unglamorous corduroys. if it felt a little tight at first, it was waiting for the most awkward moment to rip.

to be continued.