Sunday, July 18, 2010


Yesterday I found myself pondering what to wear on a date that evening. I realize this statement may give rise to some questions, namely:

A: How did you get a date?

B: Why are you wondering what to wear? Doesn't that call into question your gender?

Trust me, I would never write anything here that in any way embarrasses me and/or people close to me,1 and there are good reasons for my confusing wardrobe situation as of yesterday afternoon.

First off, I find, on rare occasion, women who have diminished eyesight, and thus find it not completely and utterly repulsive to eat dinner with me; hence, the date. These women also have the nice side effect of being unaware of blogs written about me and/or dates.

Secondly, I had planned on my old reliable choice of dirty jeans and smelly t-shirt, the mainstay for any occasion in which I want to announce to the counterparty: I am penniless and entirely devoid of any sense of dating fashion propriety.

Sadly, said impropriety was interrupted when I was unable to determine the location of my good belt. This is confusing to me because:

A: I store my good belt on my belt rack.

B: I do not remove my good belt in any situation, other than to place the good belt on the belt rack.

Normally, this sort of activity wouldn't make it to a blog post, save this morning, my good belt was once again placed upon my belt rack.

Which would indicate that:

A: I searched for thirty (30) minutes all while the good belt was sitting in the most obvious location, or

B: An individual with access to my room removed the good belt, and replaced it while I slept.

Option A would indicate I'm a complete idiot, which is the obvious-and-yet-unacceptable solution, and so we're down to option B.

This is exciting, because there's nothing I like more than:

A: A detective story, and

B: Blaming my housemates for something

I have a long history with B, having once written a nice fiery passive aggressive note to my college roommates over the theft of one (1) raspberry-flavored Yoplait yogurt. This was warranted because:

A: Yoplait yogurt is my favorite yogurt, and

B: Raspberry is my favorite flavor, and

C: Yogurt costs approximately ninety-nine (99) cents, and

D: Isn't ninety-nine cents worth making a complete fool out of yourself and living with regret for the next six (6) years over your complete inanity?

After writing said note and exposing myself as:

A: A complete weenie, and

B: Absolutely insane

I promptly discovered the yogurt at the back of the fridge, which thing I have never discussed nor told any individual prior to this moment. Roommates, I'm sorry. You were right. I'm crazy. If you'll ever speak to me again, I'll buy you all the yogurt you want.

Which brings us to the belt. Contrary to the Yogurt Incident, I think it's fairly obvious my housemate snuck the belt. How else would he have snagged the girl he smooches loudly inches away from my bedroom window? And, along with smooching partner, how does he also have, I'm told, an out-of-state girlfriend? Only my good belt can work that sort of magic.

When women see that belt their typical reaction is to shout, "OMG. Just look at that!! I don't mind that you don't know how to wash a t-shirt, and that the only things you know how to cook after ten years of bachelorhood are french toast and frozen burritos. Will you marry me NOW??!"

And since I was deprived of said belt last night, all I got was a mumbled hello, and, an hour or so later, "I realize it's still light enough to get sunburned, but I'm a little tired, so could you take me home now?"2

Thanks a lot housemate.

This still leaves some questions, however. How exactly did he sneak it back in while I was asleep? Also, why exactly did he mumble "that was amazing" to his smooching partner after a loud thirty-minute smooch session that plagued my sleep this week? Was this in some way related to the future plan to steal my belt? Furthermore, is he just pretending to be napping with her in the living room right now, waiting for me to leave so he can steal the belt again?

These are the things I find confusing, and also the reason that I am incapable of having normal date conversations (and relationships).

She was not interested in the Mystery of the Belt. Not in the least.3

1. Please, have you read any of this? That's the sole reason said guide exists.
2. I'm just kidding. That didn't happen last night. That happened in high school. But she got the short end of the stick. She's probably happily married with two kids, and I got the best belt EVER.
3. Well, technically, I didn't bring it up. I managed to produce ever-so-interesting questions like, "what does your dad do?" and "what was your ideal day in DC like?" Good going Chris. Good going on that little snoozefest. Next time maybe I'll bring along my coin collection just to convince her I could put a rabid squirrel to sleep.


Unknown said...

whoa whoa, let's not over-exaggerate here. yoplait is at most 60 cents. where are you shopping?

Jess said...

Well I have purchased the whipped yoplait for 66 cents before...

love this one CP!

Unknown said...

We are down to option B! This was one of your better ones. I was chuckling most way through just because you started to sound so unbelievably neurotic like someone I knew...too well.

chris said...

okay, so I may have forgotten how much yogurt costs and guessed. you see, I stopped buying yogurt years ago when the memory became too painful.

and thanks nay nay.