This post also appeared on www.capecodonline.com/blogs in the opinion section of the Cape Cod Times, a division of Ottaway Newspapers, Inc.
When it comes to talking to women, I am an idiot.
Sure I’ve always been that way to an extent, but after I started dating MJ it got way worse. It hasn’t flared up in a while, but this morning it came back in a big way. Allow me to explain…
There’s a yummy mummy in our neighborhood. I’ve seen her pushing a double stroller and walking a cute golden retriever puppy for the last 4-5 mornings. I’m not sure if she’s a new homeowner, just visiting or what, but she’s cute as hell. And because of that, I have been purposefully avoiding any eye contact and especially any conversation. What can I say? For all the pontificating I do on this blog, I’m shy.
But this morning, as I made my way down the hill next to our condo with my two dogs, I came out of the woods and there she was smack dab in front of me. She looked up and smiled before I could look away. I panicked because now I had to say something to her or else I’d be known as the rude neighbor. So I walked over and she complimented me on my dogs and asked me how old they were. I answered and then asked her the same question of her dog. Then my idiot gear kicked in and the conversation went like this:
HER: “Well, your dogs are so cute. I like them a lot.”
ME: “Thanks a lot. You are…I mean, yours is too.”
HER: “Thank you.”
ME: (trying to fill a weird lapse in conversation) “But not as cute as my son.”
HER: (looking slightly confused) “Oh, you have a son?”
ME: “Yep. He’s 3 months old. He’s not just mine, well…my wife and I had him. Well actually, my wife technically HAD him but he’s ours. Mine and my wife’s. My wife lives up there, with me. I live with my wife.”
(DEAD SILENCE AND AWKWARDNESS)
HER: (weirded out) “That’s great. Well, I’ll see you later.”
That wasn’t even the worst part, since our condo complex is one big circle so that means I had to pass by her again and instead of just nodding or smiling I feel the need to say “We have to stop meeting like this.” Idiot! But that’s par for the course when it comes to me talking to women. With very few exceptions I’ve always been an idiot. Bumbling, nervous and possessing the complete inability to stop talking.
It reminded me of a time, just a few months after MJ and I started dating, when my father, best friend and I went on a road trip to Buffalo and came back with a humiliating tale that is now forever known as the Cat Story. Without further ado, here is my tale of social awkwardness…
On our way to Buffalo, we stopped at the Turning Stone Casino in Rome, NY to play a little blackjack. It was me, my dad and my best friend Craig sitting at a $10 table with a GORGEOUS dealer giving us our cards. She was so hot and that’s pretty much why we sat there.
So we’re playing for a little bit, it’s up and down, when all of a sudden our dealer stops in the middle of the hand and just stares at me.
“Look up for a second,” she said to me.
I was taken aback but I looked up nonetheless.
“Wow. You have really beautiful eyes,” she said.
OK, now you have to know a few things here. Number one I NEVER get hit on by women. NEVER!!! And I really never get hit on by hot women. Granted I was dating one in MJ, but I figured she was just a fluke. But here I was with this hot girl telling me I have beautiful eyes, when I realized I had no idea how to respond to her. My panic led to the following exchange, which my father and friends still give me crap about:
ME: “Thanks but I don’t think so. I just found out I’m allergic to cats and my eyes have been really itchy and watery.”
(long, awkward silence)
HER: “Oh you have cats?”
ME: (growing more humiliated by the second) “No, my girlfriend does. They’re annoying. Everything ends up smelling like cats.”
(all other sound has stopped and crickets are now chirping in the background)
HER: “So…you smell like a cat?”
ME: (hitting the panic button full force and giving up) “Yes, I smell like cats.”
I’m serious! I went from a hot chick telling me I had beautiful eyes to “I smell like cats” in literally 15 seconds. I just don’t have the gene that allows me to talk to attractive women like a normal human being. And apparently I feel so guilty even talking to a hot girl that I immediately bring up my wife, my baby and anything else that makes me instantly asexual. And when I told this story to MJ, thinking I’d come out looking like the noble husband who remains true to his wife at all costs, I was met with the following comment:
“It’s OK honey, I don’t worry about you cheating. You’d never be able to pick up an attractive woman.”
My wife, ladies and gentlemen!