Yes, that is a very dated reference to the animated mounty, Dudley Doright. Why do I make this reference? Because I have come to realize that I am a veritable Magneto. No, not for iron and metals, which would admittedly be awesome. Instead, my powers of polarization seem to attract the Damsels in Distress. The Queens of Quandries. The Mistresses of Mental. I am their masculine Statue of Liberty, holding the torch in the middle of a sea of instability.
Case in point: Today I'm sitting at my desk when this absolutely gorgeous girl walks in. Picture a young Joan Jett, sans 80's hairdo. The other technicians damn near fell off their seats watching her come in. She comes up to the desk and coos that she needs some help getting her amplifier out of her car. So, I stroll out to her mid 80s Volvo station wagon, grab her amp, and walk back in, the lady smiling at me the whole time. During the entering of the information, she's flirting with me like mad, leaning over the desk and laughing way too much at things I say that are slightly sarcastic. As I move her equipment to the back, she starts singing. Tuneless....tuneless singing. I come back to have her sign her paperwork and notice the wedding ring that she's been gamely trying to hide.
From this I gathered that a) she's in a crappy marriage and I seemed like just the morally corrupt fellow to help her out of it and b) she's stark raving mad.
I could write this off as a one time deal if I hadn't noticed that this has been a sort of pattern for me ever since I was at least 18.
I know all women are crazy. This is a scientific fact. The only reason the study hasn't been released is because all women ARE crazy and actually having the documentation to proove it would only drive them further over the edge. The thing is, the ones that always find me are the ones who already pulled a mental Thelma and Louise and the car hasn't landed yet.
Look for me to be making an appearance on Springer some time in the not too distant future.
About Me
- Serge A. Storms
- Here's the skinny, Jack. I'm anti-social to the nth degree, I focus my general disdain for people into finely woven tapestries of bitterness and vulgarities. I want very little more out of life than to be acknowledged at some point before I die as being "one hell of a pirate." I watch alot of movies. Good, bad, it doesn't matter. Up to about 3 years ago, I used to lie all the time, and now I find it much more interesting to be brutally and unflinchingly honest. I am not a Democrat or a Republican because I hate both equally. I'm an agnostic, and a devout one at that. Anything else you want to know, pick a blog.
2 comments:
I thought it was just me all this time, but the female of the species has been drifting toward crazy for a while now. Of course, even though we KNOW most women are crazy, there's just something about them that keeps us coming back for more. We can overlook a lot of crazy if the woman in question has other prominent properties that pull us in. It's just ratio of how much crazy we're willing to put up with. Conversely, beautiful women seem to be attracted to dysfunctional men. Unfortunately I guess I'm just too dang normal on the outside, while on the inside lurks a brand of crazy I'd match against anyone.
I've told my younger brother on several occasions that all women are crazy, you just have to find the one with the right imbalances that you can put up with. The easy out is the "daddy issue", which seems to cover a broad base of illogical behavior. But I usually get the borderline Francis Farmers wanting my number.
Good to know I'm not the only one with the magnetism, or as Scatman Crouthers would put it..."The Shinin."
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