11 October, 2011

Here's a story that paints somebody in an unflattering light simply because I do not share their shitty taste in television programming.

Today's post is inspired by a post I made over at the EA Forums. Consider this the director's cut of that post.
You know, I don't know if I ever mentioned the time that - No. I know I didn't.
OK, so back in college, I had a little crush on this lab tech. Let's call her [redacted]. Because that's [not] her name.
Pictured: The Matron Saint of Nerd Hot
[Redacted] was... Hmm... How do I put this? She was certainly nerd-hot, I can tell you that. I once told Anders that I just wanted to go up to her and put it out there, just say it, you know? "Hey, baby, you want to drink a bunch of NyQuil and fuck like squirrels?" That became Anders' favorite thing for that week.
[Redacted] also had one of those attitudes that you'd describe as "fire cracker" when you're trying to be nice and "bitchy" when all bets are off. But I got it. She was a lab tech. I've given pretty much all lab techs at [my school] a pass because they had to deal with nothing but mouth breathing eighteen and nineteen year olds breaking equipment all day, every day. Like idiot kids who need a hammer for some reason and resort to using a microphone. Some of the lab techs were easier going than others and so some I remember fondly and others I still harbor a minor dislike toward, though I'm sure my mind could be changed after maybe a beer or two with those particular individuals.
[redacted], if she hadn't been cute, would be one of those in the "minor dislike" crowd. As I said, I had a little crush on her. Alas, I never pursued her actively because she kind of intimidated me what with her take-no-shit attitude. And because the entire time I was in college, I was single for only two months between Angie and Georgie, so there was that. And also? Because she liked Hanson.
I shit you not, ol' girl liked Hanson.

These fucking guys.
Kind of a deal breaker.
Fast forward to three years later, last year. I'm here at work one day, waiting for Janis to show up and take over for night shift, when the door bell rings and I greet this cute geeky-looking girl and show her into the office. I ask if she has a reservation, she says she does, I ask her name, she gives it, and I ask, From [name of my school]?
"Yeah," she says, "Yeah, I thought I recognized you." Or something like that. It was a fucking year ago.
So I check her in and crack a few jokes she doesn't laugh at. (Janis came in at that moment and would later tell me, "Yeah, I could tell from some of your cheesy jokes that you were going for it.") I had to pursue her this time, though. I had to. How many times do you get a second chance at anything in your life? Not too goddamned often, if at all. And we all know that there's that cheesy aspect to this scenario where she's here for only two nights, I have to make those two nights count. Maybe she's just as in to having a little thing while she's back in Minneapolis, who knows?
But I am three years older than when I last spoke to her. I'm more cynical, more discerning. I've had my heart broken a few more times. I've been used as a walking talking dildo. I've fisted a chick. So, no. Not so naïve in the ways of romance.
I go outside to the patio that night with a beer and find her out there - I can't remember what she was doing - and I ask if she might like some company and she answers in the affirmative. I sit down and we starts to talkin' and it's beginning to dawn on me how positively vanilla this bird is. There is absolutely no reason for her faux-jaded snark. She's just kind of this empty vessel, closed off to prevent filling, with (at least) one horrible misstep in her taste in music. And here's the thing: I'm getting bored listening to her talk.
And we keep talking, if only because I'm - OK, let's be honest with ourselves and others: I'm trying to get laid. Would that mean I would be having sex with someone I find boring and possibly don't even like? Yes. Haven't I done that before? Yes. Does that mean I won't do it again? No. So, back to the show: We keep talking, if only because - yes, I know - I'm trying to get laid (Happy now?) and the part of the conversation where we compare and contrast our individual likes and dislikes heads to the subject of television (I carefully avoided the subject of music because I didn't want to laugh at the poor, misguided woman.) and I rattled off a few of the shows I like. I'd figured her for a Venture Bros. gal and so I believe I started off with that.
No dice. Never heard of it.
So there were probably two more, Breaking Bad being one of them. She'd never heard of that either. And when I tried to explain the premise - normal guy finds out he has cancer, turns to cooking and selling meth to leave his family a nest egg of sorts after he buys the farm - I remember that the look on her face was... Imagine if you found a carton of eggs a month past their expiry date. Now imagine you found them under the sink. That was her face.
I asked her what her favorite show was and I'll never forget the smugness and the condescension in her voice as she said without a trace of irony, "The Big Bang Theory."
That nerd show on CBS?
"Yeah, it is so funny."
Huh. Cool. Well, I need to grab another beer.
"Alright."
I did not return.

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