SoulPancake

[SP EXCLUSIVE]

I'm not in movies. I don't have a three-novel contract with a major publishing house. Supermodels don't have me on speed-dial. Wikipedia doesn't have me listed. My name is never on the list—I always have to wait in line to get in. I look ordinary. I make enough money to get by. I am not a genius. I can't solve a Rubik's cube. And I'm luckiest when I work the hardest.

There are two reasons why I'm thinking these things: 1) I'm planning a novel in my head. At first, I thought my protagonists would be crazy party-harders who had lots of promiscuous sex. Then I realized I didn't actually know anybody like that. Most people I know are not exactly French-Riviera-Dolce-&-Gabbana cool. 2) During lunch with a friend, she complains about her crush's recent impassivity towards her—and I get worked up over it.

"Dude, no way,” I tell her. “It's a matter of mindset."
"What is?"
"Everything. You're smart; you're a ton of fun to be with; you're caring; you're beautiful; and you're sweet as double-chocolate ice cream in that old-school way that's hard to find nowadays. Frankly, if he doesn't like you, I'm offended. Screw that guy."

Now add (1) and (2) together (one's not half two. It's two are halves of one), and you get:

Nobody's got it all. I mean it. I forget that a lot of the time. When someone young and beautiful drives by in a Porsche—or I see those kids basking in the sun, smoking cigarettes with trendy sunglasses on—I look down, frown, and walk on. What to do, right?

Then I remember a discussion I had trying to establish first-date etiquette. He was horrified when I mentioned in passing that I didn't generally pay for girls during the first few dates. "Isn't it … unimpressive?" he asked. "No," I responded, "my 'value' is the content of my character. If she's there, I want it to be for that, or at least to get to know that. If she has to be impressed, I want it to be with something to do with me—not my wallet or my name being on the list. I'm fun to be with, we laugh, and the conversation's good. That's why she should be there."

Maybe because we're too hard on ourselves, or perhaps because societal forces are hard on us, we're preoccupied with all the things we're not (or not likely going to be). Don't get me wrong, I'm not done fighting tooth-and-nail to be the (next) James Joyce or Winston Churchill or Nina Simone. If it happens, it happens, but life isn't about looking glamorous while smoking. Most of us aren't Beyonce. We live in whateverville towns where we do what we need to do in order to face the day. We laugh when something's funny. And I may be delusional, but I think I look pretty fly in those t-shirts I got from the 99 Cents store.

Our lunch continues, and my friend says, "OK, but listen, maybe I'm weak for saying this, but … is it wrong to just want someone to like you?"
"NO! That's the way it's supposed to be! You should be, and feel, liked!"
"So … how do you know? God, I'm so jaded. How does that even happen anymore? Everyone's just: blah blah sex blah sex blah sex blah."

The answer?

Dear Wonderful not(maybe sometimes)(un)average(extra)ordinary World:

Maybe we can't dance, jump, juggle, color-coordinate, Tae Bo, speak French, pick-up-chicks, fly first class to Barcelona, follow instructions, solve the time-independent Schrodinger equation for helium, lay around in the sun looking awesome in our shades. Maybe we're the most ordinary, standard, everyday-typical-vanilla-average-uninteresting guy/gal we ever met. But even still, we're the heroes of our own stories. And it's time we took it back and held our heads high and appreciated the people who appreciated us and moved on from those who don't/won't/can't.

I think it’s time to reconsider the question. "God, I'm so jaded. How does that even happen anymore? How do people like-like each other?" Because it does happen. We may be ordinary, but we're also awesome. Consider that right now, somewhere, two people are having coffee because they have plenty to say to one another and because they can laugh together. (And neither one of them is Brangelina.) It happens. All the time.

Homework: Finish this sentence. The person I currently/previously/hope to like-like is extraordinary because ...

…because she was witty, and when I teased her, she teased back. because she's actually a good person. because she's the last person alive who still cares about being punctual. because she's cute-annoyed when I'm (always) late. because we have the wittiest text-message-exchanges on earth. because she watches Southpark with me. because when I feel sad, she says, 'Oh, your tortured-artist-syndrome is playing up?' because I spontaneously asked her to have coffee with me at 2 a.m., and she said, ‘What the hell.’

:: a penny for the old guy