First, a colleague of mine made a comment about how I dress like the guy at work. Then one of my occassional drinking buddies, an electrician, made the same comment. Thursday night, a high school student I tutored last summer said the same damned thing when I ran into her at the grocery store.
Having never watched the show, I had no clue who this guy was – the comparison meant absolutely squat.
This morning I remembered to look him up on Wikipedia. Who the fuck is Simon Cowell? And why should I care?
* * *The high school student I mentioned? I started tutoring her in math and reading skills right after I'd ended a rather bizarre relationship last summer; she overheard me talking to her mom about it. She kept wanting to pester me about my love life rather than study, so I made a bet with her – if she pulled her GPA above 3.0, I'd let her play “Find Jason a Girlfriend.”
Quite frankly, I didn't expect her to pull in anything above a 2.5, so I figured I was safe. But, according to the mangled grade reports she showed me Thursday, she was averaging a 3.3 for the year.
It is never a good idea to wager your love life against a teenager's pursuit of a life beyond rural Indiana. Per our bet, I had to go on a date with the woman of her choice. I hadn't seen this girl in more than six months. Her dad, who was with her at the store, told me that she's been plotting since she scored her first straight-B report card.
When I got home from the store Thursday night, I sat in my pick-up for about ten minutes, with one thought repeating over and over in my head:
“Dude, you are seriously fucked.”
* * *
Friday morning, the kid e-mailed me a list of about two dozen potential dates. I was to narrow down her list to five and she would then pick my date.
She apparently had completely ignored two of my major criteria – no one underage and no one who had a criminal record. Three women on the list were under 17. One, she wrote in the e-mail, wouldn't be able to go out until she got off probation for a drug conviction.
Oh yeah. I'm fucked.
Couldn't this girl have missed a couple days or just been satisfied with being a C+ student?
It's not her fault, I guess. Living in a rural area automatically limits one's options.
The best part was, of course, the Questionnaire she included to help her pick a winner:
Do u like a. big boobs b. small boobs or c. no boobs?
Do u like Hawthorne Heights? or r u a country fan? i can't figgure u out...
Are u a guy who likes to snuggle or do u play it kool on the first date?
She copied her dad on the message. Her father received the e-mail at the same time as I did, apparently. He called and left me a voice mail. I was too embarrassed to answer my cellphone.
Two and a half minutes of your former pupil's father laughing at you is a rather humbling experience.
Her father, being a single guy himself, felt my pain and gently intervened on my behalf. He sent me a modified version of the list (sans women he called Jerry Springer rejects) and saved me the awkwardness of having to explain to a high school girl that I don't, um, have a boob preference.
* * *This afternoon, I went on a blind date, hopefully the last. Not an awful experience – she picked a rather attractive gas station cashier, her boyfriend's cousin.
We did coffee and caught a movie. It was rather uneventful. Actually, I was bored within the first five minutes.
Nice girl, but not my type. I'm not sure what my type is, exactly, but I'm sure this woman isn't it. We had nothing in common – not one single thing. And I hate to sound mean or arrogant, but who the fuck finds dumb women attractive?
I kept reminding myself the whole time that it could've been a lot worse - jailbait with a drug conviction worse.
At least I can now say that I've whored myself out for education.
Like I said, it could've been worse...
Dating, Education, Gambling, Literacy, Matchmaking, Rural America