Entry #95: Who Is Shania Twain?
This Entry Sponsored By: "Romance Advice from the Gangster of Love"
Dear Gangster: I got a problem... I'm thirty-one years old and attracted to a twenty-five-year-old man. We have both admitted that we like each other. (So you're saying, "So what's the problem?") Well, I really want this to blossom into a relationship and possibly marriage. You know what I mean. I can't screw this one up. I don't want to rush anything, but I don't want to lose anything either. I know you're saying, how can you lose what you nver had? I've prayed to God that He send me a husband and if He's answering my prayers I really don't want to blow it. - My Mom Is Praying Too
Dear Praying Too: This is huge. You're saying that God might have actually sent this guy and plopped him on your doorstep or the bar stool next to you or whatever for the sole purpose of becoming your husband. I gotta be careful here too 'cause you're, like, saying God already did His work and now I'm coming in like a consultant of the highest order. Do you think He knows you've come to see me with this? Let's just say He does. So now you're problem isn't this guy anymore. Do whatever you want with him, you have my blessing, especially if he's financially set. But your real problem is the wrath of God for going over His head on this one. My advice: Run. And keep running. He's everywhere but He's really slow, man. He could belike in the kitchen and it might take Him a week to ten days to catch up to you in the master bedroom. Just keep on the move. Eat light, when sleeping wake yourself up every two hours and move to a different room, keep the movies you rent at about eighty-eight minutes.
You want to hear a story? I've skipped the entire month of April like nobody's business, the least I can do for you guys is a story.
So as most of you know, I've been having a fairly 'difficult' time finding a good prom date. In reality, that's all a cover-up for the fact that I've been meaning to ask this one girl, but haven't been able to work up the nut to do it. For my entertainment, this girl will be referred to as Shania Twain. I've been wanting to ask Shania to prom for weeks now, but it's never been the 'right' time. This time, however, I was ready. I had already planned out a random meeting, my words, everything. I got to school bright and early Thursday morning, looking for her...
Nowhere.
Yeah, that sucked. I went through the whole day taking abuse for not knowing who I was going to prom with, still trying to figure out how I was going to ask Shania Twain to go to prom with me. Finally, fourth block rolled around, and I realized that it didn't matter how I asked, just that I got around to asking her. With that I mind, as soon as the bell rang ending school I shot like a rocket to Shania's locker.
"Hey... you're Shania Twain, right?" (You have to realize that I don't talk much to Shania Twain.)
"Yeah."
"Listen, I have one of those really weird questions that you ask people you don't really know out of the blue and you're probably going to say no and..." and shut the fuck up. I kneeled down so that I was on eye level with Shania. "Look, my last prom date kinda backed out on me, and I've wanted to ask you for a while, so... do you want to go to prom with me?"
Shania gave me one of those innocent laughs that is usually a tell that you, the innocent male, are about to get lied to. "I'm not allowed to go."
... "What? Why not? Parents?"
"Well... John Mayer (not his actual name either) asked me to go a couple of weeks ago..."
I started to piece things together in my mind. John Mayer and I speak regularly, and I knew that according to him he couldn't pony up for a date, which made sense to me. Knowing (or so I thought) where this was going, I said, "Well I can pay for you, and we can just march together and you can go chill with John Mayer for the rest of the night..."
"I don't want to go with John Mayer."
"...oh."
"But I kinda had to make up this story about how I couldn't go with him, and if I went with you..."
"Yeah."
"Sorry." That innocent smile again. Damn it all to hell. "I would've liked to go with you, though."
"It's okay." Either this girl is really good at making up excuses, or she really would have liked to go with me. I'm saying #2 for my own sake.
"Also... you do know me... from swim team."
And she walked away all mysterious-like, leaving me by her locker in a state of utter what-the-fuckdom. This entire experience was sort of surreal, honestly, and as I walked back to my locker Sierra slapped me on the arm and I grabbed it in pain and starting screaming holy hell. I guess I might be going with Holly now, so at least having eighty million fallbacks paid off, but I think I would've much rather gone with someone new and different. Oh well... that's my cross to bear.
- Joseph H.
Dear Gangster: I got a problem... I'm thirty-one years old and attracted to a twenty-five-year-old man. We have both admitted that we like each other. (So you're saying, "So what's the problem?") Well, I really want this to blossom into a relationship and possibly marriage. You know what I mean. I can't screw this one up. I don't want to rush anything, but I don't want to lose anything either. I know you're saying, how can you lose what you nver had? I've prayed to God that He send me a husband and if He's answering my prayers I really don't want to blow it. - My Mom Is Praying Too
Dear Praying Too: This is huge. You're saying that God might have actually sent this guy and plopped him on your doorstep or the bar stool next to you or whatever for the sole purpose of becoming your husband. I gotta be careful here too 'cause you're, like, saying God already did His work and now I'm coming in like a consultant of the highest order. Do you think He knows you've come to see me with this? Let's just say He does. So now you're problem isn't this guy anymore. Do whatever you want with him, you have my blessing, especially if he's financially set. But your real problem is the wrath of God for going over His head on this one. My advice: Run. And keep running. He's everywhere but He's really slow, man. He could belike in the kitchen and it might take Him a week to ten days to catch up to you in the master bedroom. Just keep on the move. Eat light, when sleeping wake yourself up every two hours and move to a different room, keep the movies you rent at about eighty-eight minutes.
You want to hear a story? I've skipped the entire month of April like nobody's business, the least I can do for you guys is a story.
So as most of you know, I've been having a fairly 'difficult' time finding a good prom date. In reality, that's all a cover-up for the fact that I've been meaning to ask this one girl, but haven't been able to work up the nut to do it. For my entertainment, this girl will be referred to as Shania Twain. I've been wanting to ask Shania to prom for weeks now, but it's never been the 'right' time. This time, however, I was ready. I had already planned out a random meeting, my words, everything. I got to school bright and early Thursday morning, looking for her...
Nowhere.
Yeah, that sucked. I went through the whole day taking abuse for not knowing who I was going to prom with, still trying to figure out how I was going to ask Shania Twain to go to prom with me. Finally, fourth block rolled around, and I realized that it didn't matter how I asked, just that I got around to asking her. With that I mind, as soon as the bell rang ending school I shot like a rocket to Shania's locker.
"Hey... you're Shania Twain, right?" (You have to realize that I don't talk much to Shania Twain.)
"Yeah."
"Listen, I have one of those really weird questions that you ask people you don't really know out of the blue and you're probably going to say no and..." and shut the fuck up. I kneeled down so that I was on eye level with Shania. "Look, my last prom date kinda backed out on me, and I've wanted to ask you for a while, so... do you want to go to prom with me?"
Shania gave me one of those innocent laughs that is usually a tell that you, the innocent male, are about to get lied to. "I'm not allowed to go."
... "What? Why not? Parents?"
"Well... John Mayer (not his actual name either) asked me to go a couple of weeks ago..."
I started to piece things together in my mind. John Mayer and I speak regularly, and I knew that according to him he couldn't pony up for a date, which made sense to me. Knowing (or so I thought) where this was going, I said, "Well I can pay for you, and we can just march together and you can go chill with John Mayer for the rest of the night..."
"I don't want to go with John Mayer."
"...oh."
"But I kinda had to make up this story about how I couldn't go with him, and if I went with you..."
"Yeah."
"Sorry." That innocent smile again. Damn it all to hell. "I would've liked to go with you, though."
"It's okay." Either this girl is really good at making up excuses, or she really would have liked to go with me. I'm saying #2 for my own sake.
"Also... you do know me... from swim team."
And she walked away all mysterious-like, leaving me by her locker in a state of utter what-the-fuckdom. This entire experience was sort of surreal, honestly, and as I walked back to my locker Sierra slapped me on the arm and I grabbed it in pain and starting screaming holy hell. I guess I might be going with Holly now, so at least having eighty million fallbacks paid off, but I think I would've much rather gone with someone new and different. Oh well... that's my cross to bear.
- Joseph H.