Rants & ramblings of the disaffected

True Love & Fleas!

Meet Larry & Steve. Two brainy single guys -nerds suspended in an indefinite stage of post-pubescent juvenile development. They’re both a couple of players; other than the fact neither has had a date since junior-high, nor have they matured much since then. Two single guys with aspirations of dating and making out… But reality can be unkind when it comes to delusional states of mind. Previous dating experiences can only be described as “crash-and-burn” scenes.

Here is a recent conversation that took place.

“I’ve had a girlfriend before.” “No, you haven’t!” “Have to!” “Dude! They don’t count if they don’t consent to being your girlfriend.” “She knew,” he countered. “She didn’t suspect…” “She had a restraining order filed against me!” He said that a bit too triumphantly. Then he sighed loudly. “You’re right. We need therapy”

These guys are losers, a couple of nerdy computer geeks. Two room mates. How bad can they be? Let’s rewind to last week… The set up… hereafter documented as Pathetic Dating Event #11;

He and his date are alone; or at least that’s what they want her to think. The roommate? He’s behind the door, trying to video tape the ‘play by play’ as it goes down so they can analyze their technique. “They do it in football,” he reasoned. “We should be at least as committed.” “We should probably be committed,” he mutters.

The conversation goes downhill as soon as she arrived. She seemed suspicious. “Where’s your …friend?” “Who …my roommate?” “Oh! Is that what you guys call them now?” “Uhm, ‘they’? You mean ‘they’,” …he pauses, as in …?” “Yeah. Isn’t he …you know …?!!” He throws open the door -infuriated. “I am not gay!” She looks down to see the video camera in hand. She smirks. “Drat! She outsmarted us!” He attempts to hide it behind his back with a sheepish grin of a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie-jar.

Larry cracks under pressure, blurts out. “Can you have a little courtesy here? I’m trying to seduce you… Oh crap! Did I just say that?!!” She smiles. It’s a smug smile full of gloating, a condescending look of a higher intelligence as it toys with inferior forms of intelligence. “Looks like a permanent condition that afflicts the male gender. What we have here boys is a classic case of ‘Testosterone-induced Stupidity’. “You guys have it bad.” And then she left.

Apparently Male Pattern Stupidity is a genetic disorder.

Yes, two stupid guys will do just about anything to impress a girl. Larry has an announcement. “I’ve finally got Melanie to agree to go on a date with me!” “How’d you do that?” “She made me sign a waiver agreeing to never ask her out again, if she said yes” By now you’ve surmised that Larry is a little more than vain. He just wants an excuse to make out with a real ‘hottie’! “She’s bonafide,” he says! “A bodacious babe by any standard. And I’ve got to really impress her if I want to take this to the next level. I’ve got to show her my sensitive side. Chicks dig it!” “Whoa,” Steve interrupts. “Promise me you won’t say ‘chicks’ in front of her! Please Mr. Sensitive?” And then, “So what’s your strategy? “No,” screams Larry. “No ‘strategies’ Steve! That’s how the video camera fiasco came about. He pauses in deep thought.

“I’ve got it. Tonight’s the big night. So here’s my plan! We adopt a dog from the shelter…” “Wait,” interrupted Steve. “I don’t get it? Adopt a dog? That’s your brilliant plan?” “Moron! He thumps his head, I’m gonna’ play the sympathy card. Girls love that kind of stuff.” “So when she sees your ‘sensitive’ side, she going to throw herself at you?” “Precisely! It can’t lose!” “I don’t know. What do you know about taking care of a dog?” “Hello!” He thumps his noggin. “It’s a dog! A dog is no match for an intelligent thinking man. We’re IT systems analysts. How much trouble can one dog be?!!

“To the shelter!”

The guys go to the shelter to shop for a cute little dog. But all they have available is this one over-sized Great Dane. It’s a large, black ten-month old puppy weighing in at a hundred pounds. When he stands up on his hind legs and puts his front paws over Larry’s shoulders, he stands six foot tall.” They’re standing face to face. “Perfect,” exclaims Larry. “This is not a ‘dog’, what we have here is a four-legged, furry ‘chick’ magnet.” Steve thumps his head. “I told you not to call them, ‘chicks’!”

The girl at the shelter is suspicious. She overhears them whispering loudly, stares at them in disbelief. “Do you guys know what you’re getting into? A dog requires a certain level of…” she pauses to look at them both. She was going to say ‘responsibility’ but for some reason unknown to her she finishes her sentence, “…uhm, maturity” It’s a condescending look of pity. They both look at each other and grin. “High fives!”

Day One: Enter the new arrival.

Things quickly go wrong and by the end of the day their pad they once proudly called the ‘Babe Lair’ has been trashed. -Yes. These two losers actually named their apartment the “Babe Lair“. Unbeknownst to our two Don Juans’ the first step in doggie-psychology is inaugurate the home turf. Before they can react, stunned disbelief seizes the squeamish pair of rookies. The new un-named canine domesticate, hereafter referred to as Roommate #3, performs an intestinal bowel function system check on the carpet. “Eww!” “Whoo-ah!! Well, …uhm everything works. Quick! Get a pooper-scooper.” “Dude?!! That’s huge! Get a back hoe!”

The dog has a busy afternoon; he chews up the couch, poops in the front yard. He’s demanding, constantly underfoot, he clings like saran wrap to their every move. Larry’s sitting on the couch. The new canine co-habitant is intruding into his personal space with his head in Larry’s’ face, …drooling.

The rambunctious dog continues to run amok through the house like a four-legged two-year old misbehaving. They stare in disbelief. “Dude? Do you realize you just went from single to being an unwed father of an overgrown two-year old …with no sex in the process?” “Steve. Don’t depress me.”

“Dude? Where’s your couch?” “He ate it,” pointing to over-sized dog sprawled out across the remnant of his furniture.

A bit later… Steve is irate. “Give me that pillow,” he scolds and snatches. “You sleep on them, you don’t eat them!” “Dude?” He puts hand on his shoulder. “Were you just lecturing ‘the dog’ ?” Like a child, Steve counters. “He started it! He chewed my pocket pencil protector!”

Finally the pandemonium calms. It’s a brief respite during the melee when the dog is sprawled out across the entire couch …sleeping contentedly. Larry’s sitting on what’s left of his recliner, Steve-on the corner of the end table. Larry philosophizes. “Stupid dog,” he exclaims out loud! “You eat your food out of a can! How lame is that? He glances over to Steve who happens to be eating cold spaghetti-o’s out of a can. He looks up to see him paused, spoon to mouth; looking a bit sheepish. “Sorry man.” “That’s OK.”

Later Larry falls asleep on what’s left of the couch. In anticipation of the big date, he’s having the perfect day dream. He’s dreaming about …Melanie. They’re sitting on the couch together. She’s leaned over licking the side of his face. He’s in ethereal bliss! Suddenly she barks out loud. His eyes spring open to discover he’s been getting a giant dog-slurpee. “Gross!”

Meanwhile, back to the ‘Babe Lair’ his date shows up, looking gorgeous and hesitant. The moment she steps across the threshhold, the dog leaps up from sound asleep off the couch, pouncing like a ninja from across the room; planting two huge paws across her sternum. She gets knocked up and off her feet like a rag doll hurtling backwards down the steps, landing in the hedges. He helps her up, brushes her off, picks the stems and leaves out of disheveled hair…. “I am so sorry.” “Look,” he beams proudly in a feeble attempt to change the subject. “We’ve adopted a dog from the shelter. He’s a rescue!” She immediately starts sneezing. “I’m allergic to dogs. I hate dogs!” “You hate dogs?!!” Sneezing! “I hate dogs!” Another loud shrill sneeze! Things go downhill from there. He sticks his face in her personal space and drools on her leg. “Oooohhhh, yech!!” While they’re frantically wiping slobber off her leg, the dog chews her shoe. Finally she storms out angrily. On the way out, Larry jogs to the door. “Be careful where you step, There’s …” Before he can finish, the ear-piercing sound of an irate debutante, squealing in rage! Steve finishes Larry’ sentence “…doogie-doo everywhere!” They pause. “That …went well” “Better than last time,” See Pathetic Dating Event #11.

So his date is blown. She is not coming back. The house is a disaster zone. No girl will set foot in the house. And now they’re stuck with Kong-zilla. Life gets more miserable. And so ends Day One.

Day Two: Disasters in Dating.

It’s a gorgeous spring day in the afternoon. Steve is walking -the dog in the park, which is just a ruse for his true intent; trolling for prospects. He encounters one. Hello, he thinks to himself! “Hey,” he says. What’s your… “Stop right there,” she holds up her hand. “I can see right through you, you’re so transparent. You’re one of those guys that stoop to any low to pick up girls. So you got a dog just to impress girls while you toss out cheesy pick up lines.” “No …that’s so not true!” “OK …what’s his name?” “What are you a lawyer?!! “Yes. I am and I’ve been hit on too many times by desperate guys like you to fall for this ploy. So what’s his name,” she challenged? “Uh, it’s…. it’s Big …Daddy …Love? So …how did you know? She rolls her eyes and leaves abruptly. I can almost see it. A referee steps out from no-where to blow a whistle. He throws a flag. “Loss of yardage. Fumble. Delay of game.” Meanwhile Steve is booed off the field while fans throw food. I think it’s time to return to the “Babe Lair’ for another can of spaghetti-o’s.

He’s depressed. Larry: “What’s up? Another crash-and-burn?” “Why do you say that? Am I still flaming? Yes, you could say that!” Larry smiled. That’s the best you could come up with, “Big daddy Love’? He looks at his watch. “Hey? What time is it?” “6:30? Its …6:30 in the afternoon. So?” “So it’s time …to take him for a walk.” “A walk? now?” He looks bewildered. “You know, the jogger! Remember the hot one in the sports bra! She always runs by at 6:30. “Oh yeah. Her! The one we oogle through the window with the binoculars!” And then, “You go, I’ll get the binoculars. I think I’m better off on the fantasy side when it comes to girls.” “So they both leave, one taking the other for a walk.

“There’s she comes. Cute girl jogging by; she’s getting close, …closer.” She smiles weakly at him as she approaches. He smiles back at her. Hey, he thinks! This ‘dog’ sympathy card thing could just work out!” She’s a few steps away. His heart pounds. He’s drunk with the prospect of success for once! Suddenly …the dog jumps up and pushes her into the bushes. ( he’s just being protective, he tells himself )! “Uhm, look …big guy.” Dog is panting proudly. “Just a note. Do NOT rescue me from babes! So much for being a furry cute chick magnet. Tell me the truth, did my mother hire you to make certain I stay celibate?!!”

Day Three: Topsy-turvy.

There is an apparent tear in the fabric of the universe today. Some unexplainable dark event has upset the entire equilibrium; throwing reality, as we know it, up-side down. Steve has met a girl. At the grocery store. She loves dogs and she’s sitting on the couch beside him. They’re sitting close together. “He’s beautiful,” she says rubbing his ears. “What’d you name him?” “Uhm, Spot. we named him Spot! Come here, Spot!” “Spot’ inexplicably runs off. “But he’s a solid black dog,.. why would you name him ‘Spot’?” Normally Steve has struck out by this time but she’s a sweet girl that falls for the pathertic type.  He’s sitting there waiting for an intelligent response to her question when she leans in and gives him a kiss. More kssing follows. Just then you-know-who comes up from behind them as they’re totally engrossed in each other and temporarily locked in lip-to-lip ‘smooch-mode’; ‘Spot’ barks loudly. Startled, they and the couch fall over backward. She gets up off the floor. “You know, I think I’ll go now. Call you later!” He’s still laying flat on his back but manages to weakly raise his hand and wave to her as she bolts for the door. “Man, I am so bummed!” ‘Spot’ returns to give him a consolatory ‘wet-one’. “OK, I get it. I’m sorry I couldn’t think of a better name.”

Day Four: No Refunds.

After much debate they agree to take the dog back to the shelter but Larry hesitates. He turns to leave, then sees the girl from the shelter. “Look, there she is. We can’t admit she’s right. Quick, hide!” “Too late!”

“You’re here to return your dog to the shelter, aren’t you? Well, you managed to last three days… that’s two days longer than I thought you’d make it. Fill out this paperwork. I’ll waive any fees we would normally collect. Don’t feel bad,” she consoled. “That’s the fourth time he’s been …uhm, returned.”

He looks down at the dog, dog looks up at him. He pauses. “I’ve changed my mind.” She: “Are you sure?!!” “Dude?!!” He puts a hand on his shoulder, “Melanie hates the dog. He ate your couch! Bail out!”

He can’t bring himself to do it. “No, he says. I’m keeping him.” He turns to walk away. Mr. Post-pubescent Poster Child suddenly took a huge step towards …maturity. ( I know. Go figure. I didn’t see that coming either! ) A step later… the dog nudges him back toward the girl from the shelter. He says to the dog, “What? Her?!! Are you trying to fix me up? Just stay out of my love life.”

Ironic, he should say that!

And then he turned back. On a complete lark, he asked her, “Would you consider going out some time?” She paused. “OK!” “I understand if you don’t want… Wait? Did you just say, Yes?!!” “I think so. Call me sometime. Here’s my number.” “Dude, as they were walking away! “Did you just get a date?” I’ll set up the video camera…” “Steve?” “Yeah, man?” “You’re not invited this time.” “Maybe she’s got a friend?” As they left with Roommate #3, he asked, “You think you can help me come up with a real name for him, …besides ‘Big Daddy Love’?”


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