As you have read, faithful readers, who read, you're readers that's what you do, I haven't really lucked out with the females. There are more times where I was rejected or aimlessly pined, knowing that nothing would ever come of it, but they aren't that funny. Just sad. Sad and pathetic. Well, sad and MORE pathetic. It's hard to think that after all of that I would end up in a two year relationship. I already wrote about 2 pages on how we met and blah blah, but even I found it boring, and I lived it. (Not saying it's boring, but the way I wrote it was terrible - see, that's what we call "saving face," kids.) Instead, I will address some questions posed to me by people, as I've gotten a lot over time.
How did you get such a great girl like Haley?
Her pimp's a family friend.
NO, SERIOUSLY FOLKS
This question was actually posed to me by someone who wanted to take that knowledge and steal my girlfriend from me. I'm totally serious. Luckily, my advice was kinda shitty and he didn't get anything so HA - just know that I'm better than you, you schmuck.
Anyway, it was by chance. After having a very bad experience with rejection, I decided to give up on girls. They had been nothing but trouble, and nothing good had come out of them except a few second bases and being called "can't get it up guy" for two different ocassions (one of which is not featured in this column). Going gay wasn't an option, as I had a run in at the ER that really turned me away from the joys of anything anal (I'll write about it next time). There was no other choice but to swear them off. I had been chasing for years and came up with nothing. The one time a girl liked me was in 8th grade, and I ran and hid from her at the dance (one of the things I'll always regret), so karma kinda killed those chances ever happening again, it seemed. Instead, I would walk this mortal plane alone, hoping to become asexual, if only for the press I would receive.
I met Haley after going to some volleyball games with my friend Stephen. We weaseled our way onto the JV team's bench as "assistant coaches" and would sit and joke around with the coach (one of our teachers) and whoever was on the bench. One of those girls just happened to be this really cute, smart, funny gal named Haley. She wasn't benched because of a lack of talent, but because she got an infection on her foot. Every day she would pathetically try and show the coach that she could play, throwing down her crutches and hobbling at a snail's pace - she never played. Instead, she got to listen to Stephen, Coach Kovacs (CoachVacs), and I joke around.
This game was old hat for me. Haley would start to have a thing for Stephen, like every female had at one point in their life. They would fall for the chicken pox but he would never bite, and they would pine away, sometimes lasting years. This sucked for the rest of the guys, as some of the prime pickups were being wasted. My role was to be funny and help them through this trying time before they got a boyfriend and I would have to feign happiness. This role sucked because Haley was a great person, and I didn't want to see her thrusted into the black hole.
It turns out, she had a thing for me long before I ever thought it would be possible (score!) and after a wacky serious of events involving two phones and an acronym, I figured out her affection. In all honesty, it was beaten over my head before I realized. I could decode a 7 letter fucking acronym, but didn't know the girl was jonesing for me. Christ I'm a retard. It was the first time I ever jumped right into dating, because I really didn't give a fuck about what would happen. She says no, it's ok, she was a freshman and I would never see her. After the whole "befriend for 10 months then date!" strategy bombed twice, and the "sure, I'll get raped" idea sucked too, I didn't have any new ideas. We started to go out, with an inkling that she could be compatible, and we're still together.
Whoa whoa whoa, hold the fuck on. Freshman? And you were a senior?! HA HA! Child molestor! Craddle robber! Skeevy...uh...older guy!
I know I know. Trust me, I've heard it all, and I genuinely mean that. It's been a nice chunk of time, and I get ripped on almost daily for it. In fact, I'm going back to her winter formal and I get cracks of "not even prom, jesus, you're whipped by a 12 year old." Luckily for me, I was given a thick skin by my friends who rode me for every little thing I said, and wouldn't let me forget the big fuck ups either. At this point, this is all gravy.
It is weird, though, since I never thought I'd be in this position. Seniors dating freshman was always tabboo with my group of friends, as we hated seeing her best girls taken by guys who were 17 and up. It was so pathetic, so sad; they couldn't even get girls their own age. That just masked the fact that we were pissed that we would never get with those girls. I mean, we wouldn't anyway, but the playing field was already unfair, why is it getting worse? Haley caught a lot of shit from the guys in her grade, and they have every right to. I would assume none of them read this (as they hate me) but please, go right on hating me. I stole one of your best, and I'm at college and I'm STILL with her, so you can all go screw. Ha!
Oh, and it's not statutory rape as the laws in New Jersey clearly state that the age of consent in 16, and that there could be no greater than a 3 year discrepancy in age, and we only have 2 years and 7 months. Ahem.
You're still going out...and you're in college? How...and why?
I'm going to really try and kill the cheese here, but, it's going to be hard. There is something that happens when you connect another person that you simply can't let go of, no matter the circumstances. Call it love, call it fate, call it herpes, I don't care what it is, it's amazing. I so clearly have that with Haley it's almost palpable. It's the same old love story, really. When we look into each other's eyes we know what we're thinking, a bond that lasts, etc. It's hard to imagine finding that with someone else, especially when it's so vivid and clear with the one you're with.
What reason should I leave, because college is the place where you get drunk all the time and bang mad bitches? Folks, that college life is a lie...except for my friend Randy. There is nothing really different...it's the same shit, just in a new location. It would be akin to winning the lottery, and then throwing away the ticket because there are millions of other tickets. She gets me like no one else can, and I doubt anyone else ever will. Not to get all youthfully idealistic, but Haley and I fit so well...it just seems like it has to be.
Who knows what the future holds, but I know that I won't regret this. The feeling that I have when I'm with her is worth every comment about the age difference, every "you should really let her go and move on," and anything else thrown in our way. It's hard being away from her, but we both want it to work, so it does. People marvel that we can last long distance and stay faithful (all the guys back home think I'm cheating on her...I'm not...but it's a nice way to try and get into my girlfriend's pants) but what I have with her I can't find anywhere in Boston. It's two years strong now, and it gets better as time goes on. If I were pretentious, I'd say like a fine wine, but I'm not. So there.
So what the hell was the point of this Manton vs. Woman shit anyway?
Fantastic question. My mom read the one with Josie and asked, "who cares?" It was the first time I annolytically looked back on all of the relationships with girls I've had in my life, and the similarities weave through. For example, I had no idea what the hell to do with dating until Haley, and had to learn all the way. It's weird to think that no one knows how to relate with the opposite sex intrinsically. We see TV shows and hear stories and that's how we go out. My first double date at the Diner happened because older kids, and couples, ate there. Sasha and I had our first kiss because that's what normal guys and girls would do. I told Josie I loved her because that's what you hear people say. It takes a while to understand what to do and what not to do...and it never stops.
I guess this was sharing my learning experiences with others, as we all share a common interest in getting ass. Here, I displayed how I never really achieved that goal. Well, not before a whole lot of pain (in the case of the 'lawnmower,' quite literally). Also, it's great to see other people get embarassed and hurt and to laugh at their misfortunes - why do you think American Idol loses a good number of its viewers after the tryouts are done? We're cruel bastards, and we love to see others fail, mostly because it didn't happen to us. To quote Homer Simpsons, "it's funny because it isn't me."
Mostly, though, it was a self-serving affair. This isn't really a new concept, as I love attention; hence this whole set up. It's also a great way for me to look back and see where I came from and how I got here, as well as to appreciate what I have going for me. I took a chance once, and with the help of a white thong poking out of a pair of jeans to show she was mature enough to go out with, it worked out, for the first time. It's just nice to know that sometimes good things happen to hapless, self-loathing pricks.
Here's what you're going to see in the coming weeks on this fucker:
-More embarassing personal stories of my youth
-Some of my earlier works, when I was angsty and angry and listening to Weezer's Pinkerton too much
-The stupid shit that pops into my head as I walk down the street or watch TV
-Hopefully a mailbag. I know some of the people that read this, and I know you have keyboards, so I will be asking for participation.
-Will properly spell the word "condom." Only two people caught that - you people aren't very good editors
-More terrible punctuation, grammar and spelling errors, as I don't edit any of this. Hell, I don't even write it in Word to auto spell check. I stink.
A hearty thank you because for some reason the whole series got a large number of people reading. Thanks for reading my stupid, incessant bullshit. It brings a warm joy to my heart, and a wet spot in the front of my jeans.