Adventures of a University Finalist

Thursday, November 25, 2004

Sale: Beer Goggles - Everything Must Go!

The psychology of the recently besmirched man is a strange thing. Take for example, an extremely inebriated gentleman decked in a rather heavy musketeer costume who is accosted by a not paricularly attractive stranger and asked whether he likes Joy Division. Upon hearing this, the gentleman becomes rather excited and wishes to leave the noisy environment to discuss Ian Curtis and the stranger takes this as an invitation to his room. Upon arriving at the gentelman's parlour, the stranger proceeds to attack his CD collection with infrequent bursts of "Oooh Pavement" and "Have you got the new Elliott Smith" (Sadly, the gentleman can no longer enjoy that bard's particular oeuvre at the moment due to his recent hysterical martyrdom). The drunk gentleman sees this as a sign of good taste and breeding and therefore goes in for some romantic interaction. This results in a large haddock jumping out of his sink and landing upon his face. Or so he thinks but on second inspection, this is the stranger's absolutely abysmal kissing technique. Now we reach a juncture: most rational theorists would say "Politely ditch the fish monster and go back to the party for fun". However, the gentleman takes the wrong decision, due to hormones, loneliness, and general inebriation, of continuing this weird ritual praying for a miracle to occur to remove the obnoxious beast from his dwelling. Thankfully, this occurs on her own initiative and the only real fallout is a n itchy rash on the gentleman's upper lip and the memory of the entire awful experience. Sadly that gentleman was me and, yes, my lip still hurts.
I believe that there are two facts that rankle me most about this: (a) it may be known around college soon enough that I engaged in tonsil tennis with the Creature of the Black Lagoon or (b) the fact that later that night, I met an extremely pretty and nice girl who certainly had a superior technique than most in the kissing department despite being sloshed on cider. When will men ever learn that they can think with their heads rather than their genitals when it comes to women? Is it too much to ask for a little patience? In my case, the answer is "We'll have to work on it a bit more next class".
More drinking tonight. I hope that I don't have to deal with any repurcussions of last night that are in the least bit negative for I know that in my weakened state that I won't be able to cope and will descend into incoherent shouting, pointing and falling over. Never mind. Life is good on the whole. I hope it's the same for you sweet readers. My blessing upon you.