A Debilitated Heart

A young co-worker, just eighteen years in age, but wise beyond his years, approached me the other night.  He had a look of seriousness on his face, asking a serious question and not wanting one of my usual smart-ass quips.

L_____ is, as I said, wise beyond his eighteen years, and we've engaged in some inspiring subjects while restocking the coolers at work, but this subject, as it does with many, was stumping him and it was easy to understand why.

"How do you know when a girl is really into you?" he asked.  For a moment, I was sincerely touched, but remembering that my luck with the fairer sex has not been what anyone would categorize as, ideal.  Before I could answer his question, he added, "I asked this girl out for a coffee and she said, 'Hell yeah!'"  I confounded.  Even in my (extreme) few successes, I'd never gotten a 'hell yeah" as a response.

I paused for a moment, attempting to recall some fragment of useful information, but alas I had to confess that my knowledge wasn't up to par.  That no tidbit of information from me would bear any fruit of usefulness.  "I don't know," I explained, "Usually when I ask a girl out for a coffee, she somehow hears it as 'Can I have sex with you?', although I'm really talking about a warm refreshing beverage."

He thanked me for listening and continued on with his tasks, leaving me to dwindle on my past.  Silently I reminisced about the many rejections I've received over the years, concluding on two that I couldn't distinguish between as being the worse rejections.  Later on, I approached young L_____ and asked for his opinion.  Like I said, he's wise beyond his years.

"I asked one girl out for coffee and she answered with a resounding 'NOPE!!'  No hesitation.  No thoughts on the matter.  Not even so much as eye contact.  I barely got the question out and it was a 'nope' with a hard 'P' sound." I explained.

"Well that was harsh." he said.

"The other rejection," I continued, "The girl paused, scrunched up her face and uttered with disgust, "Eww. No."

L_____ was taken aback, then started to calculate in his head which rejection was truly the worse of the two.  He went with the latter, stating that the exclamation of disgust was definitely worse.  All these years, I'd always considered the first as worse, as no consideration was placed into the decision, but upon reexamination, I'm going to have to agree with my young friend.  Pausing to think about it, then shrieking with fear and disgust, does seem more offensive.  Damn.  My life sucks...!

I've always suffered from seasonal depression.  My sadness and loneliness seems to culminate during the winter months.  Professionals have explained it to me that it's the lack of sunlight and that the sky always seems so dull and grey.  I've always disagreed, stating that it's because all the shit that most couples enjoy together, happens during these months.  My spell usually begins just before Halloween and extends off into springtime.

I've gone on to explain that Halloween is a time that is most enjoyed with a partner.  Go out to a bar or a party and have some fun and laughs.  I'm usually a designated driver, instead, often looked over by party patrons.  Next is my birthday.  I've never had a girlfriend or significant other to share my birthday with.  Probably explains why I prefer to hide away and ignore everything when November 29th rolls around.  After that, it's Christmas.  Everyone around me is bragging and showing me what they got for their loved one and all I can do is fake a smile and feign interest, wishing I had someone special to share the holiday with.  I did have someone special many many years ago, but she died in a car accident days before Christmas, so the season has always been a little tarnished for me, though I don't dwell on the negativity as much anymore.

I've never had a New Year's kiss.  While everyone around me is smooching to Auld Lang Syne, I'm left looking at the floor, reminiscing about the one year that I did have a girlfriend on New Year's Eve, but because she didn't like public displays of affection, I was rejected.  A few years later, I'd be celebrating the New Year with some friends at a house party, one woman spoke up and said, I'll give everyone a New Year's kiss, but not Jeff.  Talk about a proverbial kick to the junk.

St. Valentine's Day is next.  I got a dancing gorilla with a top hat once from a friend at work.  I kinda had the hots for her, but nothing every grew from that.  (Ironically, she was the one who uttered - "Eww, No.")  I still have that dancing gorilla today and on St. Valentine's Day, I press the button and watch him dance for a few seconds.  It makes me smile and feel special for a moment... I've never had anyone special to buy flowers or chocolate for.  No one to take out on for a romantic dinner.

I have had a few successes with women.  I'm not a complete loser.  I'm mostly a loser, but not completely.  However, on closer examination of what worked to get those successes, I haven't got the foggiest idea.  One or two of them were alcohol-related, so anyone's guess is as good as any.  A couple successes more were the result of off-the-cuff smart-ass remarks.  Endeavours that have not been successfully repeated.

I'm often told that I'm a nice person, but beyond that, I don't know what is wrong with me.  I know I'm not interesting.  I don't do anything interesting.  I don't have any hobbies that I can share with people.  No extra-curricular activities that can strike interest.  I haven't any passions that anyone deems interesting.  I'm afraid I'm a lone wolf, destined to walk the world alone.

These days, life is especially tough.  I've not been able to secure gainful employment since being laid off from CNH in June of 2014.  I see many of my co-workers around and about and they've all found jobs to supplement their lifestyles, while I've been "lucky" enough to get hired onto a back-breaking minimum wage job that is slowly killing me from the inside out.  I've sent resumes to countless employers and even have an employment coach trying to help me out.  It seems like the more resumes that are sent out and the more rejections I get, the more useless I'm feeling about myself, every day.

I'm glad I have my cat, Monkey, otherwise I don't know where I'd be, if I were to be at all.

My birthday is on Tuesday.  I plan on staying home, with Monkey.  We're going to watch TV.  Share some laughs..., then I have to go to work that night. 😞
Damn!  My life sucks...!

My boy, Monkey.

Smoke & Mirrors - Chapter Two: The Journey From Diffidence to Being An Asshole

I've mentioned to people that I am painfully shy.  Most don't believe me as I am, for the most part, a smart ass.  I'm quiet and reserved at first, gauging my surroundings, then I'll open up some, mostly offering up smart ass comments of teasing jabs.  I mean no malice, by it, just harmful fun with hopes of making people laugh.  This was a self-preservation tool that many bullied children adapt on the playground.  You're far less likely to get punched in the gut or your underwear hiked up your ass, if you can make the bully laugh, even if at your own expense.  I recall using this tactic many times on the mean playground at King George elementary.  Except one time where I became favourable with one bully, while infuriating another, which ultimately earned me a sharp punch to the abdomen.

These days, I'm always present with a sharp witty comment.  When I'm with my friend, Melissa, I will often hit her with a barrage of comments, when I see someone in my peripheral who's musing at my quips.  I can't recall any of which I can share right now, but I assure you, if you ever have the privilege of meeting her, you can ask her yourself.  She's not shy about sharing those moments.

I wasn't always that way, though.  I actually have been painfully shy at times.  Even today, I find myself stressing out about uncomfortable situations.  I had some people over to my house a few weeks back and stressed about that, even.  Back when I went to university, I was no different, despite my going away to a new city, with new surroundings, I looked at it as a chance to re-invent myself, then when faced with the opportunity to do so.  I caved.  Things got so bad, that I soon found myself ditching classes and in the evenings driving off to be alone at the movies.  I had ample opportunities to hang with classmates, but I found myself overwhelmed with anxiety and fear.  I'd come to my film class, quietly seated in the back, never raising my hand, never offering any input.  This was a class that, academically, I should have been superior to most of my classmates, but the fear of all eyes locking on my fugliness, was scarier than any bully I'd faced off with on the playground.  No witty remarks or jokes would overcome this brood of students, I felt.  Eventually the school year would come to a close, my marks were fair, but not nearly as good as if I'd have sacked up and joined the group.

I'd come home that spring, a failure in my own eyes.  Eventually, I'd need work and sadly the only work I could get was that of door-to-door sales.  To be a success at sales, you can't be f*cking shy for one moment.  It was here that I learned to mask my insecurities and push my personal envelope of comfortability.
Success as a salesman would elude me, however.  I was good at it, to a degree, but personal feelings and thoughts about honesty would overcome the sleaziness of sales and ultimately my demise from the vocation, although it was a car accident that would get me out of that line of work.

The next few years I worked retail, which helped me come out of my shell a little more, as well as add to my arsenal of being a smart ass.  My ultimate downfall, has always been, acting like a smart ass to the wrong people, supervisors and managers, to be more precise.  In an effort to avoid being uncomfortable or that scared little boy, I opt instead, to be a smart ass.  I guess, it's easier for people to hate me because I'm an asshole, than it is to deal with their hating me because of me.  Who knew being a dick would be a safeguard?