Wednesday, June 01, 2011

A little story, including my one pick up line ever.

Oh my darlings. Seriously this book thing is tearing me up.

Not in a bad way but I'm in what I feel like is the home stretch and it's just exhausting trying to be awesome and fancy.

A progress report. Things are chugging along a little slower than I'd anticipated but I think I have distilled a good chunk of things I say and am really excited to get them prettied up. I'm still not entirely certain about a release date as of yet but I'll keep y'all posted.

I'm also still fundraising.



So this was going to go into the Book but I decided not to so I'll share this story with you.

Lots of people in the Fatlands of the internets have been talking about being single fatties and I'd like to tell you a little story about yours truly, a man and the one time I have ever used a cheesy cheesepants pick up line.

Imagine if you will, I was not far over 21 and while I wasn't really that fat I was fat in the context of the people I knew and hung around with. For clarification on contextual fatness as I define it read this entry, go ahead- I'll wait.

Okay at that time I was kind of leaning more towards the gay side of the force than not. I wasn't super into the peen. I was far more interested in the butch submissive lesbian I met and her also submissive wife than most any penis having individuals.

That was fine. It was no big problem for me until I quite literally ran smack into one of the hottest pieces of Irish Man ass I have ever met.

We'll call him Nasty McNastypants to protect his anonymity and he almost knocked me on my ass on first avenue in downtown Seattle because I was way below his sightline. He made certain I was okay and when I heard the very thick accent I decided to pretend I could pick him up.

I asked if he was from Ireland, Northern Ireland specifically and he smiled at me and replied in Irish I have no idea what he said and I never asked. I myself speak no Irish at all as much as I'd like to (which is a WHOLE other very long story) but he was very amused that I identified his accent so specifically.

He introduced himself and that was when I laid my line on him, it is the one and only pick up line I can deliver without giggling, that I remember the whole thing and that is just so silly I never care if it works. I said:

"I'm Shannon, the Blackest Irish in America."

He howled with laughter. Also let me digress for a second and say that a lot of Americans I've said this to were completely appalled and didn't get it. Every Irish person I've said it to thought it was fucking hilarious.

Now I was pretty sure that once he was done laughing I'd get a pat on the back, maybe a token you want to get coffee or something. The thing is, among my group of humans I was often the fat girl people talked to about her friends. Trufax.

So when he stopped laughing and put his arm around my shoulders in that kind of way and asked if I wanted to get a drink I said yes. He was hot, I felt kinda hot and holy shit my pick up line worked.

He was only in the country for a short period of time and I did have a job so we saw each other when I got off work (I was working in a bank vault at the time) and I have to confess that I had him wait for me outside of the bank vault one night simply to see the looks on the faces of some of the women I worked with when he kissed me, grabbed my ass and dragged me off to his rental care.

Yeah I did that.

The thing is that I had no real confidence in dealing with the mens. Not much at all. I always felt weird. At the time I really didn't have a *ahem* grasp on the workings of the penis so it was not only educational and fun but, I got to be the fat bitch with the hot ass dude on her arm for a precious few weeks at a really important time.

It was important because I still struggled a lot with being the Fat Girl amongst my friends. I struggled a lot when I went out with friends and boys asked me for their numbers not mine. It wasn't that I necessarily wanted those boys numbers but sometimes it is nice to be asked.

Because I had no faith in Nasty McNastypants having interest in me I wasn't afraid to just do my thing. I know it doesn't always come across here but I'm actually a fairly goofy and awkward human.

I realized after Mr. McNastypants was gone that after that I realized that I wasn't attached to everybody wanting to touch my ass. Once I let go of the idea (which is always pushed on us) that we must be hot to everyone, I started attracting people I was attracted to.

I fully believe that if your internal dialogue is awful, at some level you can't entirely hide it from the world and from people who are attracted to you in particular. This is where the hard work of trying to recode, turn down, or otherwise deal with those negative internal dialogues starts.

If you walk up to someone you think is super hot and you want to make some time with them, and all they can see in your eyes is a running hate dialogue they are probably not going to be into it.

I'm not saying that you have to be all super awesome all the time. I am saying that learning to rewire your brain, instead of thinking OH SHIT I'M TOO FAT/UGLY/WEIRD/SMALL CHESTED/WHATEVER to be talking to this hot person, maybe try thinking Okay this person is hot, yes self smile, say hi. D'OH that was dorky, wait I'm okay. Oh HEY HOT PERSON..might do you some good.

It did me some good.

Almost as much good as playing Conan with a wandering Irishman in a hotel room.

So single fatties, single weirdos, single people who don't know what the fuck to do calm down. You're fine. Yes, you are going to get rejected sometimes. Some people will be assholes about it. Yes, some people are going to think you're too fat/weird/whatever to date them.

That is okay.

Being rejected or single doesn't mean there's something necessarily wrong with you as an entire human being. It just means you haven't really found the people who think you're hot and want to know you and date you and possibly make some sexy times with you.

Also remember not everyone is born all smooth and able to pick up people at will. It takes practice to find what works for you and who it works on.

The moral is, don't be afraid to hear a no and more importantly don't be afraid to hear a hell yes.

Now I am going to get back to work. And remember please do not feel bad or upset if you can't donate. It's okay. If you would like to signal boost my chip in page feel free. Or hold onto your dollars and buy the book which I'm imagining will be priced at 4$ for ebook format and prolly 7-9 for print.

Homo Out.
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3 comments:

Anonymous said...

*Sigh*... Northern Irish... I MARRIED one of them. Still married, after 21 years. They are so adorable, aren't they?

Mulberry

MamaVH said...

I love this! I was hoping for more of the sex details, but you know... : ) It's a GREAT story and I am going to think of it often.

vesta44 said...

Being 1/8 Irish, I have to say that I found that line hilarious too (the rest of me is 1/4 German, 1/4 French, 1/4 Polish, and 1/8 Dutch). I'm looking forward to buying your book when it comes out, love your writing.

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