Alone in the Crowd

[Alone in the Crowd]

I entered the pseudo-dance club still riding my driving high.  When I say driving high, I am not merely attempting a clever turn of phrase, nor referring to an actual chemical imbalance akin to narcotics.  I'm talking about something that happens to my personality when green lights line up and I can use my car's turbo.  People who bitch about other people, specifically the ones who incorrectly assume there is a strong correlation between driving fast and getting somewhere in a timely manner, don't understand why people like me thrive on finding places where they can get up to 80 (indicated) on surface streets.  Getting somewhere in a timely manner is typically not an issue of speed but of making the correct moves, the right lane changes, using the right routes.  For a thorough treatise on the subject I suggest you read part of The Art of Driving, by Biff Becker.  Anyway, those people, likewise, have probably never exited their car thinking that their life, the universe, and everything, is awesome, never heard their car's locking mechanism chirp behind them in agreement as they walk away.

I was late, later than usual, but the one girl I go dancing with, the only one (of the three and a half I usually dance with) who was planning to show up that night, had not gotten back to me about what time she was getting there.  She has an incredibly attractive body.  What I mean by that is that she pretty much spends the entire night dancing--she often can't get off the floor before yet another guy intercepts her for a dance.  I pretty much only get to dance with her because I know her and she loves dancing with me and comes looking for me.  With all that, I end up dancing with her like three times on a normal night.  Anyway, the point of all that was really just that I can show up late and sneak in and she is so busy dancing she never knows when I actually get there.  Back to the story.  Wait, first:  we'll call her Pink Shirt Girl.  You don't need to know why...it involves my washing machine.  Anyway.

As I checked my leather jacket, which I think is awesome and which gets a moderate amount of compliments that are unfortunately of dubious sincerity, the DJ began playing one of like 5 versions of a song with the phrase "zoom zoom" in the chorus--the version I like.  Perhaps, "love" is a better word.  "Love dancing to" would be better yet.  I came down the large starcase and asked the first girl I saw to dance.  She was quite attractive (which is normally cause for apprehension) and standing in front of the fan, but in my jubilation I didn't hesitate.  She said she was sitting that one out, or whatever.  I walked around the side looking for someone else.  I saw no one, save for a bunch of guys also looking for girls, and an older woman that I didn't find attractive at all and who was asked to dance by some guy just as I passed her.  I came around to where Pink Shirt Girl and my other salseras like to stand, still looking.  The song ended before I found anyone.  During the next song I surveyed the dance floor for Pink Shirt Girl, and realized she was not there.

Then I zoned out for a while, because there was no one there that I actually wanted to talk to, and standing around not talking to anyone is boring.  When I came to, I went walking around looking for someone to dance with again, and this older woman asked me to dance.  Don't get me wrong:  she wasn't old, just older than me, by like more than a few years.  So like, 30s.  "Older" means 30s, maybe higher.  I'm not really sure whats going on, but I'm starting to get the impression that I am quite popular with a lot of the older women.  I think the circles under my eyes make me look older.  Anyway, ...yeah, lets skip the rest of the details.  I like writing prose, but they are not relevant.

A half hour after I got there, I had gotten one dance and one rejection, both of which I previously described, and Pink Shirt Girl never came.  I was standing in the corner looking for girls to dance with.  There were none, really;  the few girls that I didn't mind dancing with were hot items and I couldn't get to them before someone else asked them to dance.  My good mood had withered into the sort of stout denial of misery that I usually feel when I go salsa dancing by myself in this city.  So I left.  Wait, is that everything....yeah I think thats all the right details.  Wait, no, there was one super attractive girl I've wanted to dance with for a while, but she is out of my league until I can find a good dance studio and get some lessons.  So...that's where I'll be this weekend.  Anyway, I didn't dance with her, and the realization that I wasn't going to dance with her made me ask what I'd come for anyway, so I left.  So, onward.

Today, I found out that Pink Shirt Girl was on a date last night, the kind of date that went so well that she didn't make it out to dancing at all.  This was a disappointing plot twist for me, because after doing my best to, you know, read signals, and all that b.s., I was leaning towards she likes me, and away from she just likes hugging me every time she sees me.  Turns out, I was wrong again.  Since she is a friend, and since, because she is one of the few girls I go dancing with, asking her out and getting rejected would have spoiled the usefulness of that frienship (for me), I suppose that avoiding it by not asking her out was the right move.  However, I can't shake the feeling that I've lost something.  And there is that small voice somewhere in my head screaming maybe she really is interested, and I should have been more aggressive, but I'm learning to ignore that one.  I think Laura's perpetual unpredictability caused me to put too much faith in it.  But I digress.  Whatever my chances were with Pink Shirt Girl before, it looks like I'm locked in the friend zone now.

We are now back down to zero credible possiblities here in the dating/making out department.

I may swallow my pride, grow up, and start hanging out with Firefly Girl again, due in large part to the fact that I want to watch season 3 of Castle.  I don't like sexual tension--if thats the right word for sitting, on your 5 year old Ikea futon that is poorly covered by a queen bed mattress cover that keeps coming off when you sit down because it doesn't fit, next to a girl that you want to make out with but can't.  I hate that.  I think girls thrive on it though.  I think they love that shit, the way I love leaning in close but not actually kissing them.  I think platonic stalemates, one-way attraction and unrequitted feelings stroke some kind of drama-themed pleasure-circuit in their brains.  Thats why they love romantic comedies so much.  You'll notice, when they throw eye candy into like an action movie in order to attract male viewers, they don't add a girl who is "its complicated"-ing some guy.  They add a girl who takes her top off right before the scene switches away (see:  Snakes on a Plane).

[Chief Medical Log, Stardate Bullshit]

I admit, I didn't entirely believe my prediction about the doctors being unable to find out what was wrong with me.  I had myself kind of convinced that a pulmonary shunt was responsible for me passing out at altitude.  Turns out...I do have a pulmonary shut, but its not a big deal (its "not significant"), and they have no idea what caused my mini blackouts, and also I'm apparently in great shape.  So I guess I can go skiing now.

So, yeah.  Life is one great mystery, or something.  I'm going to find a suitable gay-sounding inspirational phrase like that to use as conversation segue, and put the whole thing out of my mind.


[The Organizational Announcement where they tell everyone I'm being punted to a new team]

In 2010, all Ordering <Fluff>.  <Fluff>.  <Fluff fragment>, <long-ass fluff fragment>.

<Fluff fragment>, <fluff fragment>.  <Fluff>.  Thoroughout this year, [teammate 1] has [figured out how to fix it].  In order to <fluff>, we will [shuffle a bunch of people around].

<Fluff>.  <Fluff fragment>, <fluff fragment>.  <Superfluff with +1 busswords>.  <Fluff>.

In order to <fluff>, [teammate 1], [me], and [teammate 2] from [my team] will join [new team] <fluff>. [teammate 1 is awesome at everything] and [me] and [teammate 2] will be [there also].

I would also like to [we're getting another guy, too].

<Fluff>

<Generic "holiday" pleasantry>