Of mice, men, chimps and chumps

*Post contains profanity.*

I have to say, Happy New Year to all first. Because the rest of what I have to say sets the tone for a fairly crappy blue year.

The score of Dave vs the Axis of Women now stands at a neat 0-8.

One of those fun defeats was another cute Thai waitress who positively beamed when I told her, "I think you're cute, can I take you out to coffee?" She unfortunately had a boyfriend and I'm unfortunately beginning to think I must have some kind of fetish for the hospitality industry. Seriously, if you ever find me cruising and hitting up MacDonald's Drive-thru's I want you to shoot me, then cremate me, turn my ashes into a mud brick and then smash the brick...with a Humvee.

The other defeat is, in the big picture, much more significant to me for many reasons.

I met this wonderful girl at a Christmas party recently. She is, easily, the most interesting person I've met this year. Spontaneous, cute, artistic and articulate...phrases like "point of consciousness" roll off her tongue as easily as a Lupe Fiasco rhyme, yet peppered with girly giggles...the adjectives don't really convey what an intriguing mess of contradictions this girl is.

Such an adorable mess at that, too.

We had a couple of pseudo-dates with other people tagging along which went alright. I decided to push the agenda by offering to make her dinner at my place.

I think I drove my friends and family nuts by getting very neurotic and nervous about the date. All the typical hang-ups got dusted off and thrown about,

"What do I wear? What music do I play? What should I cook?"

I mean, I haven't been on a proper date in years, so really all that can be simplified into,

"What the fuck do I do?"

And the zen-like answer I got from all corners -

"Just be yourself."

(Is everyone else hearing Robin Williams as the Genie from Aladdin? Beeeee yourselfff)

In some people's eyes (my brother) it was slight overkill. He said, in his wisdom,

"Man, you've upped the intimacy level way too quickly. If you're not on point and the chemistry isn't there, you've got nothing to fall back on. Nothing to distract her. You're McFucked."

That's my new curse for the year. McFucked.

My friends had only one thing to say when I said that I'd tried to be adventurous by inviting the girl to pick six ingredients which I'd use, Ready Steady Cook-style.

"Dude." (Shaking their heads)

When the ingredients came back as salt, pepper, garlic, pork, tomatoes and ice-cream, and I said that I'd try and be even more adventurous and make tomato ice cream you can imagine their response.

"Dude, you....are so McFucked."

"Just be yourself."

I've decided that that is the single most useless piece of advice ever.

Anyway, come date night I had, like a typical medic, prepared and over-thought the situation enough for me not to be too nervous. And dinner went alright. Nobody died from tomato ice-cream poisoning, and nobody choked on undercooked pork.

Maybe something I should say at this point is that the girl had already forewarned me that she wasn't looking for something serious, particularly not with a doctor (aha! the "doctor" card is absolute bullshit - see?) because she had had a disappointing relationship with a doctor in the past.

I think I surprised both her and myself by forging on nonetheless, optimism in one hand and a firm belief in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny in the other.

McFuck it! I'll just BE myself and she'll see that it'll be different with ME.

I think it's clear from my tone that I did indeed get McFucked.

Somewhere around the halfway mark of the dinner date the conversation got serious. Serious talking about her not being ready to have a serious relationship. With a doctor?

No, with me.

I live with self-doubt most hours of the day and one gets used to hearing one's own voice drone on about one's own inadequacies so much that functioning is not so hard.

However, when someone beautiful and intelligent is sitting in front of you and deduces it all, and reflects it back to you in words almost stolen from your own head...

The feeling of vulnerability is like being dissected open to your soul on an operating table without proper anaesthesia. You're aware that something painful is happening to you but have no control over it, and for some strange reason it doesn't feel wrong. It just hurts.

I hear (not in these exact words, I'm paraphrasing) "You're passive, serious. Not relaxed. You're not assertive, you're not quick."

Just be yourself?

Guys (males), all of you *know* what comes next.

"I Still Want To Be Friends."

This is where you feel like a dog that's been steamrolled into a worthless (and very flat) carcass but here she is, waving a bone at your flat, sorry ass.

And I'm sorry to say it, but I'm a sorry sucker for it too.

So, just be yourself?

Be a sucker? Be a passive, serious, non-assertive slow bastard?

That chestnut of wisdom "Be Yourself" does not live with the other classic axiom, "Change is a Good Thing".

It's the season of change. I've been living in this skin for a year and it's brought me to my knees in front of women that have either been Christian, psychotic allied health or a seductive force of nature, as in this case.

I'm really feeling that if Oh-Seven is not kind to me, I will break things.

I want to thank Marcus and Sid for the drinks, and apologize for not taking their advice more to heart.

I want to thank Fi for the song we recorded - I am going to try and hang my memories of this week on that, rather than on this.

And to the significant two others involved in this situation: I realized after writing all this you may stumble on this post. This post is not meant to upset the balance we've negotiated and I'm not looking to cause any trouble. Go about your business and don't underestimate my capacity to be civil. I am a public servant, after all.

***

As Oh-six turns away for the last time, I want to wish much love and happiness to all my friends and everyone who has made this year alive for me.

Faithfully yours,
!dave~