Out of Pod Experience

Um, I'm sorry. I have to stay home and.. *looks around for an excuse* shave my eyebrows. Maybe some other time?

Parents do the darnedest things. Really, there ought to be a training course or license they have to get. Maybe through an advisory board of senile old easy-going great-grandmas and grandpas.

Long-forgotten rejection tale:
For about 6 months, had been teaching English to every school kid in every school in a village in a country Japan mountain valley. Really kind and generous people, but the attention and lack of privacy were kind of intense.

One day there I met a Japanese-American guy from L.A. there. He had roots in the village, and was trying to learn Japanese and take care of some inherited land.

Another day a while later, my new compatriot bud and I decide to take a bus down the hill to the closest sizable town for some bowling. Yeah, bowling, because we'd both seen the bowling alley along the highway bus route, and it was the only place we could come up with to go to. Lo and behold, inside it's lot like an American bowling alley. Except it has about 30 20-year-old attendants. We get two setting up our scoring computer thing, shoes, etc.

Well, young male American bowlers being a first-time thing for them, and Japanese 20-yr-old bowling attendants being a first-time thing for us, we kind of get interested in each other. Things are going so well for me with one of them that I sort of start getting a high. Sort of a transcendental ardrenalin/satori excited state of mind. I knock down nine pins, leaving the one in the back right corner standing. Hard to pick up for a righty. But no problem, in my highly-charged yet focused bowling attendant state or Zenness, I shave that bastard and topple it.

Friend's two rolls-- don't remember. While he was rolling, my girl gave me number, a twinkling eye, and a naughty smile. I am no longer a novelty foreigner mountain school teacher-- I am a local player! So now I'm just flying in nirvana on hormones, dopamines, oxygen deprivation, or who knows. I just line up my shot, float toward the line, and launch the ball with my mind elsewhere. It musically plucks that left corner pin like a guitar string and sends it over to relaxedly knock down the one on the right.

"How did you do that!! Ha heh heh!" Ha, never mind that! Miracle shots by regular crappy guys out bowling-- pshaw!

OK, here's the rejection part, two days later:
K. Deserters (after some rehearsing, to whomever might pick up the phone, which turned out to be a mom, as feared: "Ah, hello. I would like to speak to Mayumi-san please."
Mom ::strangely amused and nice, as if expecting it:: "Hello, yes, here she is."
Mayumi: "Hello, how are you? It was very nice to meet you. Thank you so much for contacting me again. It's quite cold today, isn't it...? heh"
K. Deserters [soliliquy, to self] WTH, big surprise, ah damn, whatt? I think I get it-- yeah, it is, shot down in flames. Not picking up any miracle spares here after all.

yes. yes I can. I hug me and am in very deep love with myself.

I honestly do not get that story. It sounds like you surrendered before she even had the chance to reject you...

Ain't that normal for japanese? Or for a lot of outher countries, too...

I think, ok, it's never happened before (I don't know why but I've found guys are pretty apprehensive about riding shotgun on a crotch rocket) but what could possibly go wrong? So we get on and I zip out.

At least he hasn't fallen into the "cuddlebitch" zone. That place is painful!

Apparently I was so bad I drove her to lesbianism.

Sure enough, a seeming enternity later, a knock came at our door. I gasped with excitement and darted out of the room. My dad stood at the door and beyond it was my love and HIS dad. His dad held a note. My note! I was completely petrified! How could this be? How could he betray my love like this. He looked visibly uncomfortable he clearly did not share my feelings.

The punishment my parents doled out to me was harsh. But I barely noticed. Nothing could compare to the emptiness of my heart. I listened to my rock albums and hated the cruelty of fate and life for weeks.

Stupid boys!

So the ride doesn't last 10 minutes and we reach the theater. We get off and my date is looking down on his cream khakis and there's a big wet spot around his crotch area. I immediately check my dress and my bike seat and he's gotten a tiny bit on us too. So I look at him and I'm dying to know what I did, but I offer to drive back so that he could change and we could come back and watch the movie or do something else. And to my complete surprise, he flat out refuses and says he'll find his way back and would like to call it an evening.

I try to stay away from using lies to telling someone that I'm not interested in them, but sometimes lies help insulate you from saying things you feel might hurt the person even more. It's not a perfect system..

Most men actually just fail to interpret it. And then they get called a stalker. [quote reaver glitterstem