Looper

 

I’m mostly not stupid, but when I am it’s like my subconscious tries to make up for the times I wasn’t, so my follies are primarily colossal.

Whether it’s life itself making sure I know my place or a friendly reminder that I will never stop being a dork, my screw ups make my daily plod more interesting that it needs to be.

Wayne Gretzky said you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. Marvelous advice until I chose to follow it and etch into eternity the most cringe worthy memory when it comes to a woman.

So I’m at my cousins wedding and someone who I’ve had sort of a crush on for the better part of 15yrs was a guest. Good news, right? Wrong. So faahking wrong.

Anyway, the day goes great, it’s fucking beautiful and I’m feeling good about my Jason Statham meets Justin Timberlake ensemble. Not that I’m an oozing with confidence kinda guy, but I find myself highly tolerable. #win

She arrived late and looks so different to what i remember. The same spark wasn’t there, but you know…nostalgia is a thing. This long time fixation and the whole ‘what-if’ scenario. I needed answers.

I consider myself lucky when it comes to women. Not all of them mind you, but things tend to just work out. Mostly I think they’ve made a mistake when they like me, so I spend my time waiting for them to realise, so I can go be sad.

Back to the present and my playing-it-cool game is dialed up to eleven. Not even sure if she recognises me, so I’m a little concerned, but carry on.

After the ceremony i see her posing for pics. She’d been sitting with her mom and dad and then some dude and now some random guy was taking pics of her with a DSLR camera for some reason. Who buys dedicated camera? Nobody…and apparently this guy. Also, this reminded me to Google DSRL (digital single-lens reflex).

You’re welcome.

And while she’s busy posing away the wind pics up and her pants/dress/jumpsuit-thingy’s slit blows open….side buns. #score. Thanks universe, but fuck you for what happens later.

Wedding reception, speeches, gift giving, pacing the fucking hall, wondering whether i would have get t say hello, a hundred trips to the bathroom past her table, also wondering who the guy sitting next to her is. I thought i’d be the only person wearing sneakers today.

It’s dark and after a great day the bride calls me over and asks if i said hi yet and i explain the reasons why, already nervous and unsure. Im as psyched out as i can be, because im not one to do shit like this under pressure. I pounce at the dessert table with a nonchalant “You used to wear spectacles….hi, I’m her cousin”. I could just gouge my eyes out. No….suppuko.

I dont stop talking and tell her how i remember her always wearing the super short denim shorts, that i would stare and never spoke to her and i apologised for interrupting her one time many years ago. I just keep fucking talking and talking and talking the way people scramble when they’re drowning. I’m drowning hard. Then my aunt sitting nearby tells me to rope it in as if at any second I’m gonna grab a boob. Then Captain DSRL, the champion of amateur photography starts snapping away pics of us, the bride gives me a thumbs up from her table. The walls close in. By this time I had already died. My mouth just didn’t know it yet and for some ungodly reason i mention i saw her butt and she goes quiet and says something to me as she kicks it into reverse and backs away from me as my soul leaves my body, I hear my penis hit the ground as it falls off my body, no longer wanting to be associated with me. In my head im like “Staaahp”.

All this happening in the bad kind of slow motion. Not the one that makes shit appear cool or funny…not Transformers slow mo….not that.

My attempt at living life on my terms. Me grabbing the bull by the horns. Seizing the day. YOLO. Taking the shot. All to close a 15yr loop….thanks Wayne. Thanks for nothing.