Wednesday, February 3, 2010
The Good Ones are Always Married or Gay!
Well, I was disappointed for all of two minutes because then I noticed the wedding ring and even though the guy was cute, and smart and charming and kind, he was now Handsome Unavailable Man (I was first going for cute unavailable man, but I hope I don't have to spell out the problems with that acronym!). So as it turned out, alls well that ends well.
All that got me thinking about where nice girls are supposed to meet nice guys. I wrote a chapter about this in my book, because we really don't have the same options as other Western countries, mainly because 99.9% of the guys have left the country. Well, we have bars, but let's be honest, when's the last time you were hit on by a nice guy at a bar? I'm not talking about guys you were introduced to by friends and you happened to be at a bar, I mean total stranger sleaze bags who come up to you with their smarmy come ons. It's always like, "Hello, I like your clotheyz, I hope I can see you for many montheyz, maybe on your birssday. Thanks for you." (Now, don’t get me wrong, I love Lebanese accents, but it gets on my nerves when they transform one syllable words into two syllables. Okay, I just heard the collective groan of everyone who ever had to hear me speak Arabic and mispronounce 98.7% of all the words, so I'll just shut up now. Thanks for you.)
(I have to break from that story for a minute to explain that it used to take me a while to be friendly to people I just met and my shyness was often perceived as being snobby. So, one of my dearest friends, MadGlam, for years was trying to work with me on my apparent Ice Queen persona. She ever so gently broached the subject, completely sensitive to my feelings and such, saying, "Anissa, people don't like you when they first meet you. They think you're cold and a snot bag." "Whaaaaaat?? What do you mean? I'm delightful and charming!" I replied indignantly. "Yeah, I guess, if by delightful you mean aloof and charming you mean that you act like you have a giant stick up your ass." Okay, I guess I was one of those, 'to know me is to love me kind of people.' But I decided to change toute suite!)
Taking those kind words into consideration, I decided to be nice to BIG since having his own political views was his right and he didn't even wear the Hawaiian shirt in real life, so I could hardly hold a dream against him. Over the course of the next few weeks, I was very friendly and charming and he asked for my number. In typical male fashion, though, he did not call. But, I still run into BIG all the time and he is still all flirty and complimentary, etc, etc, hinting that we should meet up, but never actually growing a pair and asking. Anyway, I suddenly thought about it and now realize why BIG has never called. It is so obvious, so clear, so blatantly in front of my eyes. The Hawaiian shirt dream was an omen, a sign, meaning of course that … BIG is gay (not that there's anything wrong with that)!
Well, despite all the HUMs and gay BIGs (hey, that's my story, and I'm sticking with it), I'm still sure that Cute Available Guy is out there somewhere, and hopefully when I meet him, my lashes will look their best and other parts of me will be bolstered up appropriately!