Saturday, September 18, 2010

Jenna: Sabotage

I have a definite tendency towards sabotaging's undeniable. I cut things off at the pass before they have a chance to truly get going. I undertake a personality my future roommate and I have coined as "crazy girl" and ask too many questions, make too many assumptions, and live out the beginning, middle, and sordid end of dating scenarios in my head before they have any chance to play themselves out in real life. I usually just make the decision that things are probably not going to work out anyway and it takes all of the pressure off my subsequent behavior. Which is defeatist and ridiculous in nature because I'm usually more scared of things actually working out than anything else. This nature is synonymous with neurotic Jew from Brooklyn with a fear of commitment. But I digress.

I was working on another internet date. Rather, an actual real life date with someone I'd been conversing with via the internet. I was still not paying for dating on the internet, but I hadn't given up on it completely, and being a part of the scene at the Onion personals isn't all that much to be ashamed of. As a matter of fact, this present prospect seemed kind of promising. He got in touch with me, we'd exchanged a few emails, the banter was good, and he seemed intelligent and confident. He earned brownie points for asking lots of questions and seeming interested in what I do as an artist. I'm kind of psyched to meet this dude, he seems pretty cool.

Enter dramatic irony. Or grand coincidence. Or the world being way too small sometimes. My online friend, in our correspondence, had been offering pertinent details about his life, as well. Including a general description of his job and the fact that he worked in Brooklyn. Without going into too much detail, suffice it to say, from his description, I figured out that he worked for the same establishment as my mother. Not just at the same place, but in the same department/area/field...meaning that my mother MOST LIKELY had some kind of daily (or at least bi-weekly) interaction with this dude. Clearly, this is a fact that I must keep to myself. At least for now. Better to go out with the guy and see what's up before I get into the, guess what you totally know my mother nonsense. Not to mention the threat of guilt by association. But as the week and a half crawled by, I found my impatience getting the best of me. I wanted to know if my mother did, in fact, know the guy and, if so, what she had to say about him. Despite the fact that I knew I'd be opening a can of worms and unleashing my mother with this knowledge in the work place. Something I would probably regret. I knew it was a bad decision. I knew I should keep my mouth shut. But patience has never been among my virtues and the absolute worst thing about going on a 'blind' date is not having ANY idea what to expect. The uncertainty drives me INSANE. So, I break down and call my mom, explaining the coincidence and inquiring about the gentleman in question. She's uncertain of his identity (though she has a feeling who he might be and has only nice things to say), but confirmed that she'd do a bit of incognito reconnaissance. My mother is not the most subtle person. I beg and plead with her not to say or do anything that might imply that we've had the conversation we just had. I implore her on behalf of potential happiness. I know I've done a bad thing, one that I will probably live to regret. But I get bored without a challenge, and heaven forbid my mother should blow up my spot, the kind of guy I'm looking for would be able to laugh at the whole situation, right?

Maybe not. Maybe I'd just look crazy. Or my mom would look crazy. Or all of the above. Suffice it to say, the story never came to meaningful fruition and I actually never wound up going out with this guy. The point is that sometimes it's best just to let things lie. And not try to muck them up before they ever have a chance to play themselves out on their own. I really ought to stop betting against myself as far as these things are concerned...maybe then I'll have more control over the odds.

No comments:

Post a Comment