Previously on TetAOEtS, I was describing how arriving at work each day dressed as a clone of oneself can set a path to a faceless existence. As a branch of that premise, I believe in slightly deteriorating my look when meeting people for the first time. Without a prior experience, the new party can only judge me on my current status. I fear climaxing initially because in all future appointments I am doomed to look inferior. I prefer to leave space for improvement. My theory to being successful is to always be showing progress and it is much easier to accomplish that goal when beginning on a lower platform. Let me give you an example that I call "Seeing the Butterfly before the Caterpillar."
At first I was a huge proponent of meeting the woman of my dreams at a wedding, especially if it meant courting one of the hot bridesmaids. The atmosphere of matrimony is joyous and it sets for matchmaking heaven. Everyone is elegantly dressed, love is in the air and my eventual children wouldn't have to hear a story about their father meeting his wife in an astrology internet chat room. What kind of soul mate searching backdrop could prove to be better?
My romantic vision starts when I notice her out of the corner of my eye and become mesmerized by her radiant smile. My plan of seduction has a confident me strolling over to introduce myself. While making her acquaintance, I offer to buy her a complimentary drink during cocktail hour and that plants a seed to blossom for future flirtations.
Later, after letting a sufficient amount of time pass to play hard to get, I make a grand return and pull out the big guns. I take her hand to tango on the dance floor and we playfully bump into the bride slow dancing with her father. Upon exiting the dance floor we head on line for a slice of wedding cake. We have the fortune of obtaining the last fork and take turns lovingly feeding each other a bite.
With the evening moving along flawlessly, before I know it, we are back at the hotel bar tossing back late night shots of Jagermeister during closing call. As nightfall winds down and the dawn sunlight offers a captivating glow on her face, I gently rest a soft kiss on her delicate cheek. This leads to us passionately exchanging email addresses in the lobby and heading to our respective lodging quarters grasping onto the desperate desire to meet again before long.
On the subsequent morning I would brag to friends, hotel maids and anyone else with ears about being the smoothest guy on the planet. Of course as the gentleman I am, I would refrain from sharing explicit details of how my lips dampened the most sensitive skin. To keep the lustfulness of our affair confidential, I would only yield generic lines such as "Sally Q melted in my arms" and "She was the first one to practice and the last to leave. Sally Q just wanted me more."
In seizing a brief pause in my boasting, a friend listening interjects with “That’s great, I am really happy for you. Sally Q looked stunning last night.”
That particular line put my momentum in neutral and my mind became suspicious. Why did he mention that Sally Q looked stunning last night? Does she normally look un-stunning? On our opening engagement, did I already witness the peak of what she has to offer? Will the rest of our relationship be trapped in an unfulfilling valley? If I meet her for a cup of coffee or at the bowling alley and she has faded jeans, knotty hair and I am stone sober, will I be bitterly disappointed?
Suddenly I am not so sure of the mess I got myself involved into. Last night Sally Q was a ravishing enchanted angel mermaid princess but yet her presence following afternoon transformed into a hideous snake haired Medusa. All the intense analyzing causes me to break out into a sweat and a sick feeling engulfs my stomach.
No longer was I blueprinting romantic journeys by horse driven carriage under the stars and dining by candlelight on the ocean front. Drastic vanishing alternatives such as burning off my finger prints, adopting a stage name and speaking with an incoherent accent were now the main focus. That led to considering enlisting in the witness protection program and anonymously living the remainder of my life as a farmer in a rural community out in Northern Iowa. My entire world spun out of control and I am now in debate of abandoning my family and moving to Middle America to harvest crops. This unfortunate chain of events occurred simply because I met a girl who looked her best, the first time I laid my eyes on her.
Alright, let me stop this fabrication before I write myself jumping off the hotel rooftop or over dosing on mini shampoo bottles. I better come clean and admit that this dramatization slowly lost merit sentence after sentence. Actually this entire two part composition promotes advice that should be followed with a grain of salt or maybe not even at all. Besides, the moral was never about the importance of differentiating daily appearance or taking a modest approach to unveiling yourself for the first time. The point was to generate some rather dull output in order to lower expectations and make it easier for my other and future offerings to shine.
To reemphasize that, I will now conclude with uninteresting facts contained in parenthesis of how igneous rocks (hot magma ejected to the earth’s surface as lava that eventually cooled) and sedimentary ones (sand pressed together over long periods of time) were formed. Nobody wanted to read about that.
-pete lopez
PS I only know how to tango in my visions.
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