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enthusiastickLast night after Story Games Boston wrapped up a section of the crew went out for post-game food and drinks, as we often do. We swung by the Asgard, our typical haunt. But rather than the usual Wednesday karaoke, there was of course Game 1 of the World Series in full swing, and well on its way to being a blowout (go Sox!) We had anticipated this somewhat, and so after a bit of dithering, we schlepped across the street to the uncrowded Cinderella's for pizza and such instead.
So we sat at two tables pulled together by the front window, six geeky people blathering away as we are wont to do. Eric and I started talking a bit about WoW, and the conversation quickly turned incomprehensible to anyone who doesn't play, and Eric turned to Richard and made a crack about this being revenge for all the times Richard brought up Exalted to me at post-SGB dinners. And we laughed, and ordered food, and the conversation turned.
And then Richard, being snarky to Eric for something or other (possibly the afore-mentioned "revenge!" slight) made some mention of blowing up his house, with kittens. Filling it to overflowing with kittens until it was destroyed. And this, of course, made me think of Real Genius, and so I asked Richard if he would prefer to use a laser mounted to a fighter jet to fill Eric's house with popcorn and cause the frame to crack and the roof to lift up. I went on to mention the dream involving sun-god robes and women throwing little pickles, because its brilliant.
Eric caught the reference, of course. As did some girl (woman, I should say) waiting at the counter over my shoulder. And she interjected to agree that it was a brilliant funny movie, and suddenly I was twisted in my chair and talking with her as well, including her at least briefly in our conversation. Its a social instinct of mine, particularly when it comes to geeky things, to want to be inclusive. It can feel like there are so few of us, sometimes, that its nice to meet a new geek totally at random.
My impressions of her are unreliable, because I am not a terribly visual person. I remember the shape of her face, and that she had one of those discrete studs in her nose, one of the ones so small it almost looks like a stray bit of glitter at first. She may or may not have been carrying a backpack. I couldn't tell you exactly what she was wearing, except that it was reasonable; she was dressed warmly against the sudden turn towards chill and damp and actual Autumn weather. There was a guy behind her -- redheaded, I think -- not dressed quite so sensibly. And they were both waiting on something or other -- Cinderella's has a little counter with deserts and things in a display case, so it may have been that, or perhaps they were getting a pizza.
This girl (woman, I should say) and I talked for a minute or two. And I, thinking of Derek Kirk Kim's Same Difference, made mention of Jordan. And how my expectations regarding women were forever screwed up by that movie, because it made me want a neurotic geeky girl who never slept and wore overalls and built ice-sleds out of deck chairs--
"And would follow you into the bathroom to talk at you and not understand why you couldn't pee!" she cut me off to agree, nodding vigorously. And I nodded back.
"Yeah. Totally screwed up my romantic expectations forever, wanting a girl to be like that," I agreed, grinning.
And this girl (woman, I should say) said something then which I didn't quite hear. I've been thinking about it ever since. I can never be certain, of course, but I think she said something along the lines of: "Yeah, I would." As in, 'yes, I would totally be like that.'
But I didn't quite hear her. And I blinked, in the way that you do when you don't quite hear someone and are experiencing cognitive dissonance. And I became aware that someone at my table was saying something, and my attention was diverted and I untwisted in my chair. And in that moment the soap bubble of this other conversation popped, because I had missed a beat, and suddenly this girl (woman, I should say) was embarrassedly apologizing for intruding on our conversation. And my tongue was not working as fast as my brain, because by the time the buffer had cleared and I tried to say something she had gone. Retreated back to her male friend by the counter.
So I turned back to the table. And already it was starting to itch at my brain. What exactly had she said? What cue, or opportunity, had I missed? I asked around about it, but no one else had heard what she said -- no one else had even been paying as close attention as me, I think -- and in the meantime, behind me, she and her friend had transacted whatever business they had and left. Eric made snarky comments about her wanting my junk and how I should totally go for it, and I floundered and played the straight man and objected that she was gone. And so the six of us sitting there got our food, and we ate, and the conversation moved on.
And after we paid the check and left and were out on the sidewalk, I faux-shouted at Eric about how it was bugging me, wondering what that girl (woman, I should say) had said. And he informed me, with a roguish smirk, that she was standing about a block up the street with that male friend of hers. I didn't turn, and I didn't look. I just felt my face get hot, and asked if we could cross the street quickly, grinning at what a total unobservant idiot I am. And Eric and I laughed as we all crossed the street and I made further loud comments about what a comedy of errors my romantic life is and always has been.
What has living in this city done to me? I'd like to think that the me from four years ago, the me going to college in Chicago, wouldn't have run away like that. That I was bolder than I am now, crazier, more willing to take risks. That I cared less about making an arse out myself in front of strangers. I think on my good days I cared not at all, and I was happier for it.
Upon reflection I feel so cowardly and anti-social. I passed up not one but two opportunities to talk to this girl. The first I can chalk up to bad timing, but the second was deliberate. I could have just walked up the street and introduced myself -- it might have been weird and crazy, but no more weird or crazy than she had been in talking to me initially. And I admire that sort of extroverted weird and crazy in geeks, at least in situations like these. But that never even occurred to me. Sure, I don't even remember whether or not she was particularly cute (its my impression that she was) and that may well have been her boyfriend she was hanging around with. It might have been nothing at all.
But now I'll never know.
So we sat at two tables pulled together by the front window, six geeky people blathering away as we are wont to do. Eric and I started talking a bit about WoW, and the conversation quickly turned incomprehensible to anyone who doesn't play, and Eric turned to Richard and made a crack about this being revenge for all the times Richard brought up Exalted to me at post-SGB dinners. And we laughed, and ordered food, and the conversation turned.
And then Richard, being snarky to Eric for something or other (possibly the afore-mentioned "revenge!" slight) made some mention of blowing up his house, with kittens. Filling it to overflowing with kittens until it was destroyed. And this, of course, made me think of Real Genius, and so I asked Richard if he would prefer to use a laser mounted to a fighter jet to fill Eric's house with popcorn and cause the frame to crack and the roof to lift up. I went on to mention the dream involving sun-god robes and women throwing little pickles, because its brilliant.
Eric caught the reference, of course. As did some girl (woman, I should say) waiting at the counter over my shoulder. And she interjected to agree that it was a brilliant funny movie, and suddenly I was twisted in my chair and talking with her as well, including her at least briefly in our conversation. Its a social instinct of mine, particularly when it comes to geeky things, to want to be inclusive. It can feel like there are so few of us, sometimes, that its nice to meet a new geek totally at random.
My impressions of her are unreliable, because I am not a terribly visual person. I remember the shape of her face, and that she had one of those discrete studs in her nose, one of the ones so small it almost looks like a stray bit of glitter at first. She may or may not have been carrying a backpack. I couldn't tell you exactly what she was wearing, except that it was reasonable; she was dressed warmly against the sudden turn towards chill and damp and actual Autumn weather. There was a guy behind her -- redheaded, I think -- not dressed quite so sensibly. And they were both waiting on something or other -- Cinderella's has a little counter with deserts and things in a display case, so it may have been that, or perhaps they were getting a pizza.
This girl (woman, I should say) and I talked for a minute or two. And I, thinking of Derek Kirk Kim's Same Difference, made mention of Jordan. And how my expectations regarding women were forever screwed up by that movie, because it made me want a neurotic geeky girl who never slept and wore overalls and built ice-sleds out of deck chairs--
"And would follow you into the bathroom to talk at you and not understand why you couldn't pee!" she cut me off to agree, nodding vigorously. And I nodded back.
"Yeah. Totally screwed up my romantic expectations forever, wanting a girl to be like that," I agreed, grinning.
And this girl (woman, I should say) said something then which I didn't quite hear. I've been thinking about it ever since. I can never be certain, of course, but I think she said something along the lines of: "Yeah, I would." As in, 'yes, I would totally be like that.'
But I didn't quite hear her. And I blinked, in the way that you do when you don't quite hear someone and are experiencing cognitive dissonance. And I became aware that someone at my table was saying something, and my attention was diverted and I untwisted in my chair. And in that moment the soap bubble of this other conversation popped, because I had missed a beat, and suddenly this girl (woman, I should say) was embarrassedly apologizing for intruding on our conversation. And my tongue was not working as fast as my brain, because by the time the buffer had cleared and I tried to say something she had gone. Retreated back to her male friend by the counter.
So I turned back to the table. And already it was starting to itch at my brain. What exactly had she said? What cue, or opportunity, had I missed? I asked around about it, but no one else had heard what she said -- no one else had even been paying as close attention as me, I think -- and in the meantime, behind me, she and her friend had transacted whatever business they had and left. Eric made snarky comments about her wanting my junk and how I should totally go for it, and I floundered and played the straight man and objected that she was gone. And so the six of us sitting there got our food, and we ate, and the conversation moved on.
And after we paid the check and left and were out on the sidewalk, I faux-shouted at Eric about how it was bugging me, wondering what that girl (woman, I should say) had said. And he informed me, with a roguish smirk, that she was standing about a block up the street with that male friend of hers. I didn't turn, and I didn't look. I just felt my face get hot, and asked if we could cross the street quickly, grinning at what a total unobservant idiot I am. And Eric and I laughed as we all crossed the street and I made further loud comments about what a comedy of errors my romantic life is and always has been.
What has living in this city done to me? I'd like to think that the me from four years ago, the me going to college in Chicago, wouldn't have run away like that. That I was bolder than I am now, crazier, more willing to take risks. That I cared less about making an arse out myself in front of strangers. I think on my good days I cared not at all, and I was happier for it.
Upon reflection I feel so cowardly and anti-social. I passed up not one but two opportunities to talk to this girl. The first I can chalk up to bad timing, but the second was deliberate. I could have just walked up the street and introduced myself -- it might have been weird and crazy, but no more weird or crazy than she had been in talking to me initially. And I admire that sort of extroverted weird and crazy in geeks, at least in situations like these. But that never even occurred to me. Sure, I don't even remember whether or not she was particularly cute (its my impression that she was) and that may well have been her boyfriend she was hanging around with. It might have been nothing at all.
But now I'll never know.
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(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-26 12:46 pm (UTC)That has definitely happened to me as well. It sucks don't it?
(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-26 01:50 pm (UTC)Waitaminute. Long post is looooooong. I can't believe you didn't just skim this one.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-26 01:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-26 02:25 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-26 02:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-26 01:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-26 01:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-10-26 03:06 pm (UTC)Gotta respect that kind of action.
I said yes. Though I was leaving NYC the next day, for Boston, soo didn't work out.