The Mighty Geek Too dumb to be a Nerd.

9Jul/02Off

How We Met

It was going to be his lucky night.

The boy checked himself out again in the bathroom mirror and smiled. His black Dockers and black, silk button-down shirt looked lint-free and perfectly ironed. Bringing his attention back to his freshly shaved face he inspected the damage of his earlier shaving mishap. Turning this way and that he made sure that the multitude of tiny nicks and scrapes on his face had stopped bleeding before carefully removing the wads of red-tinted tissue paper and slapping on some after-shave. His screams of pain as the alcohol based lotion burned into his face left him breathless.

He swore never to shave using a cheap disposable razor and cold water again. Ever.

Quickly rinsing his face until the burning feeling subsided, our hero muffled his sobs in an oversized, fluffy and soft towel. He gave himself another spritz or five of his favorite cologne (Drakar Noir, because he was cool like that. Yo.) and moved into the living room to look for the final piece of his New Years Eve Celebratory Party-Crashing Outfit.

He needed to find his hat.

As he moved through the newly furnished, Bachelor Pad of Sin and Seduction, he noted with great satisfaction that it was primed and ready for action should any female companion(s) wish to follow him home that evening. He went through his mental checklist of Lures and Mood Setting Paraphernalia one last time.

  • Seductive CD next to the CD Player? Check.
  • Chocolates in the fridge? Check.
  • Tea candles and matches? Check.
  • Stinky incense? Check.
  • Condoms (ribbed for her pleasure) hidden next to the bed? Double Check.

He nodded to the room in general. The room, of course, ignored him. He was as ready as he could be for a night of sexual pleasure if only he could find his special hat to complete his outfit, and so lure an unsuspecting woman to his Magnificent Den of Amazing Sexual Pleasure.

The hat was vital to his Top Secret “Get Some” Plan.

Knowing that he would be out on the town with a group of eight other virile young men all looking to meet Miss Right(Now), our hero had concocted a plan to make himself the most memorable of the group. Since our hero was a Geek of stupendous magnitude, it was a given that his friends were better looking, smarter and more charming than he. With that in mind, he had come up with a sure-fire method of catching a woman’s eye no matter how many other suitors she might have during the night. The plan was perfect in its simplicity and it was practically guaranteed to work. The beauty of it was that it involved nothing more than introducing himself to a woman while wearing a hat.

More specifically, a multicolored, oversized jesters hat. With bells.

He grinned to himself at the perfect simplicity of his plan. The women he met at any of the partys he would crash that evening would have no choice but to remember the crazy guy in the jesters hat who introduced himself to anything with breasts and a pulse. And, as every man knows, being remembered greatly improves ones chances of getting some sweet loving from drunk women at a party.

Or, of being rejected with mortifying regularity. Whatever.

He finally finds his hat sitting complacently on top of his neatly made, ready for action, queen-sized bed. Placing it upon his hard-as-a-rock, Aqua-Net covered hair, he heads for the door and leaves his manly sanctuary. All he has to do now is take the train into the city and meet up with his friends and the night of revelry and debauchery could begin. He allows his mouth to curl into a knowing smile one last time as he locks his door and heads to the subway, his hat jingle-jangling on his head.

He stoically ignored his fellow snickering passengers on the train.

He meets his friends and they begin their sorry, pathetic march from party to party hoping against hope that at least one of their number will get the ‘hook-up’. None do. By the time they approach what will be the final party of the evening even our hero is beginning to wonder at the plausibility of his Hat of Remembrance theory. He’s beginning to think he should just call it a night, go home and masturbate. He was even thinking of keeping the hat on while doing it.

You know, for the novelty.

But he doesn’t call it quits for the night. He and his friends climb up the four flights of stairs to reach the apartment where the party is being held and it’s a good thing they did. I say it was a good thing because this party just happens to be hosted by the girl of his dreams. Beautiful, witty, funny and smart, she was everything he had ever wanted in a woman.

And most importantly, she was drunk.

At some point during the evening they are introduced and the sparks fly almost immediately. After the firemen arrive and put out the fire in the kitchen, our hero and his new infatuation go to her bedroom a quiet spot to sit and talk. She compliments his choice of headwear and he makes a mental note to laugh in all his friends faces. They look deep into each others eyes and, as he leans towards her for a kiss, she giggles as the hats little bells jingle. What happens for the rest of that evening is a blur of happiness better off not brought into closer focus.

And by better off, I mean less painful for me.

Whoops! I didn't mean that. What I meant to say was, our hero. Yeah, that's it. Our hero, not me. Because this isn't about me and you honey. It's just a story. You know, make believe? Because, uh... we're not like that, right?

...

Right?

...

Honey? You know I was just playing, right?

...

Sweetie? Where are you going...?

...

Damn.

This was not going to be his lucky night...

Filed under: HoBiscuit Comments Off