Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Mike and Jamie: A Valentine's Day Lament

This post is about two people that I find so annoying that the very thought of them makes me want to pay someone a large sum of money to beat my head in with the nearest blunt object. Mike and Jamie (who happen to share the study cubicle right next to mine) are best friends, just short of having matching tattoos and BFF bracelets. But what makes me feel compelled to perform bodily harm on myself each time I hear their names is the fact that Jamie is positively in love with Mike. I realise I'm not making any sense so let me put things into perspective. Here is the crucial tid-bit you need to know about Jamie: She's HOT!! And I don't mean, oops, I burnt my finger on the toaster, hot. I mean janitor in chemistry lab mistakes bucket of nitroglycerine for industrial cleaner and then, once he's finished mopping the floor, proceeds to light his cigarette, hot!

Anyway, like I said, Jamie is totally head over heals in love with Mike. In fact, she is regularly dropping hints that she would like to take things to the next level. For example, last week I was sitting in my cubicle minding my own business when I accidentally pressed my ears against the wall and overhead the following conversation in the adjacent cubicle:
JAMIE: Hey Mike. {giggles} You wouldn’t believe the silly prediction my horoscope made this morning. {more giggles} It said that I shouldn’t be afraid to cast aside my sexual inhibitions because the friend that currently fulfils my mental needs may be the ultimate fulfilment of my bodily needs as well! Can you believe that?

MIKE: {In a somewhat distracted tone} Actually, there has never been any conclusive scientific evidence in support of astrology.
This is where I pause to hand all my male readers a box of tissue. I swear, I could kill this guy repeatedly until he dies to death! The poor bloke doesn't seem to have a clue! After being forced to listen to the above conversational equivalent to a crime against humanity (I'm sure there must be a Geneva convention against this sort of thing), I have drawn the conclusion that Mike is either gay, mentally deficient, or Canadian.

Anyway, this got me thinking: why does love always seem to come to those who don't know what to do with it? Meanwhile, those actively searching for love, at best, only end up with a broken heart or an uncomfortable skin rash on some embarrassing part of their anatomy. The world just isn't fair! In the words of someone wiser than I: “It's worse than dog eats dog...it's dog doesn't return other dog's phone calls!”

Hey, I'm not unreasonable. All I want is a woman with the body of a supermodel, the mind of a Mensa member, and whose favourite hobbies include cooking, cleaning and coitus. Oh yeah, and who also happens to have an insane amount of money and would be happy to pay off all my student loans. Now is that really too much to ask? Despite such modest demands, I nevertheless find myself enduring yet another loveless Valentine’s day, while Canadians everywhere squander the love fate has so lavished upon them. (Sigh.) I so wish I was that guy from those Tag body spray commercials.

Happy Valentine's Day everybody (except if you’re Canadian, in which case: bite me!)

12 comments:

mist1 said...

Damn my inability to cook and clean. We were almost an item.

NoMas said...

Aw, poor Nerd. Go purchase a HUGE box of chocolates, preferable a sampler, and punch holes in the bottom of each to check flavors, eat the good ones and throw the rest at Mike! Happy Sweet Day!

Anonymous said...

So what is your beef with the Canadians, do all American rag on the unfortunate ones north of the border ... or is this your thing?

L>T said...

Oh, you are getting so popular...

We do love you for your "bod", too. It's just that we don't see that much of it. hint hint

Nubian Nerd said...

Mist1,
I would gladly make an exception in your case. Unfortunately, my problem is much more insidious: I simply can't respect any woman willing to date me since her judgement and sense of decency would necessarily be questionable at best.

NoMas,
Thanks for the advice. Unfortunately Canadians are impervious to chocolate. Damn them!

Anon,
I think its an American thing really. It's rooted in our deep resentment over our Northern neighbour's obvious moral superiority. However, in the present context my wrath is directed specifically at Canadian men, though I should probably add the qualification French Canadian. (The French Canadian women all know what I'm talking about!)

L>T,
Behave!

Cheerfully cynical said...

Uh, since when were you American?? Didn't they deport you or something? You don't mean to say you actually WANTED to be in Scotland??! Also your oveless existence owes more to the fact that you actually can't see beyond your nose... or right hand. stop loving yourself so much!

Nubian Nerd said...

Cheerfully cynical,
Isn't you accusing me of narcissism a bit like the pot calling...um, like me calling you black?

And my right hand has gotten me through many a lonely night, thank you very much!

Some Random Girl said...

awwww, poor girl.

Prometheus said...

Double Right on the Woman Specs dude. Prometheus been looking for exactly such a woman. Let him know if you succeed in locating where they make them. Prometheus would pay a king's ransom to get one.

And oh! Prometheus is willing to raise an amount equal to a king's ransom by getting paid for beating Nubian Nerd's head with the nearest blunt object.

wreckless said...

Tooooo Frigggin funny!

I am married and so am out of the equation as far as seeking goes, but when I was...man could I relate to the unhaveables that I couldn't have but others missed. I managed to get quite a lot of unexpected also, so maybe I was the one who was on the edge of getting what I didn't know what to do with. I did get it so the point is moot. Scary close, but moot. Great Blog-I'll be back.

DC1000 said...

i came across your blog randomly and have to say thanks! very funny and well written.

now, write more!

Anonymous said...

Unfortunately, they are all Canadian! The perfect women, I mean.