I Win
I knew it! It was her DVD player, not the disc!
So tonight I watched Ferris Bueller’s Day Off on my beloved BlackBook. I don’t know how or why, but I had to wait for more than 20 years to see this classic. Seriously, I enjoyed it so much, I wound up thinking, you know, it’s a good thing I didn’t get laid last night.
Two questions arise.
Number one: what would have happened if we had been able to watch the whole movie yesterday night? Well, two possibilities here.
- Maybe it wouldn’t have disturbed my master plan, and we would have had sex like animals on her couch. Don’t blame me, but I liked this movie so much, I honestly think it would have been a waste to have sex instead of watching it.
- Which leads me to the second possibility: in any event, I would have liked it to the same extent last night, and it would have captivated me to the point where I would totally have forgotten about the original master plan.
See? That’s the first reason why it’s a good thing I didn’t get laid.
Number two now: whose master plan was really at work, mine or hers? I mean, now that it’s clear that the fault was on her DVD player, not my disc (I hate myself for having doubted Netflix), the thought crossed my mind: maybe that was just the way she operates.
She’s got it all covered, you see: “Why go out and have drink? Just come over, let’s watch a movie!” So you get there, and bam! No movie! Now that I mention it, I do remember her saying: “Oh, maybe it’s the machine…”
The conclusion is absolutely unavoidable. She knew. From the start. Again, two possibilities:
- She is a psychotic. She likes to have men come over to her apartment thinking they’re going to get laid, and leave completely puzzled and insecure about their most elementary power of seduction.
- I am a neurotic. I was relying so heavily on my so-called master plan that the very trick that was supposed to get me laid -- the damaged DVD player -- actually made me fail.
Consequently, conclusion of the conclusion: she’s either deeply troubled as a psychotic, or deeply troubled by the failing of her own master plan.
Bottom line: I win.
6 comments:
Don't you love winning?
In conquering without danger we triumph without glory.
Hey, thanks for the comment on my site :) Loved reading your story. Let me just tell you right now, it is NO easier when you date a guy. In fact, I'm in the midst of a mind fuck minefield (I just totally made up that phrase). Big time. Here's an idea, why don't people just say what the fuck they're thinking, be clear, obvious, direct, and not do stupid things like invite people over, treat them like shit and then tell them to leave?! I'm sure if you knew her real perspective then her actions makes perfect sense. But you don't, and instead you're forced to think/blog about it endlessly. And in the end, you're left with (1) no real idea as to what the fuck even happened and (2) all of your condoms intact.
A gay friend once told it was much easier between two guys, because as a man you have more chances to know what the other man thinks. Until now, I thought it was a valid explanation for the fact that my gay friends seem to have sex more often than me.
You seem to have proven me wrong.
The film is gold and I'm glad you finally had the chance to see if sans distraction. As I said on the last post about how you handled the situation with the woman, you did the right thing. You win.
Let me just say that Ferris Bueller's Day Off is an 80s masterpiece.
Men. Women. Games. Why?
To be "nice" My guess is either she wanted you over because she couldn't decide whether or not she was attracted to you and somewhere in between the bad DVD player and your chit-chat - she decided to sleep with you was wasn't what she wanted after all. But really - she should have gone out and met you for a drink to determine that - in my book, if I invite you over for dinner or a DVD or whatever - it means I AM interested in taking it all to a physical level... so... yes, you win.
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