Can't prove a thing

Written 6-29-13

And you can’t jump the tracks,
You’re like cars on a cable.
And life’s like an hourglass,
Glued to a table.
And no one can find the rewind,
So just cradle your head in your hands.

I know what you are thinking, ‘Oh Warty, you talk a good game, about sometimes preferring a plain chick over Miss Pretty-nice-tits, but when bush comes to shove, we know you will go for the cute one.”

Yes, in a standard, walk up to a group of unknown women, sure I’ll start paying attention to the hottie first. After all, I am human. But the world changes after you get to know someone. I know I can never prove that, since I am no longer in The Game.
And seriously, darlin, would you like me to walk up to you and say, ‘You know, you’re not very pretty, sort of plain looking and you seriously lack any discernible figure; but I would rather spend time with you that Miss Hottie over there.”
Yes, you would be quite insulted, for no one likes to be told that they are not beautiful.

But if some night, when you look at yourself in the mirror and admit to your self that you are average looking, or plain; maybe you will understand the left handed compliment.

I can.

Because I know what I see in the mirror. And I know what you will say, “But Warty, you’ve had girlfriends…”
Yes, but despite what I thought of them, others have described them in unflattering terms like, ‘Well, she’s not very cute.’; ‘She’s not much to write home about.’; ‘ She’s okay looking.’; or the topper, “She wasn’t very pretty.”.

So, I can only attract marginal looking women? Seems to be the case. I guess they figure it was okay for me to date plain women, because they match what I look like.

Or when the blonde hottie could get nowhere with the handsome guy, she had second thoughts about me. (maybe it would have been okay to be chosen as ‘second best.’ Hey, at least you get chosen.) But I know now that I was lucky she was too late. My friend told her to back off, when she expressed interest in me. ‘He is already interested in someone else. You had your chance, but it is too late now.’ (I seriously dodged a bullet on that one!)

Oh sure, there was that incident in that bar when I was eighteen, but at eleven o’clock and slim pickings at the bar, I guess I was better than nothing. And the double martini’s you were drinking sure must have clouded your judgment. I know, because the next morning, you sure couldn’t get rid of me fast enough.


If I had an ounce of handsome, for every time a female coworkers said to me, ‘Your wife is so pretty, so nice; how did you ever end up with her?” (shut up bitch)
Yes, that phrase got old in a hurry. But I had come to expect that.

Are you so surprised when I tell you I am lucky? That WG let me hang around long enough to convince her that I was a nice guy and worth keeping around?

But I have learned to accept this. So many women like me as a friend and that’s okay, since I am not in the game.

And you may not believe me when I tell you, that if the ‘Cross Country’ scenario does ever happen and most of the people are wiped off the face of the earth and I am left alone. I will not search for Miss Hottie-wonder-tits; in fact I would seek to avoid her, despite the fact that she might live nearby. However, I would travel cross country to try and find Miss Not-much-too-look-at.

And I would be successful. Since you know she would think, ‘Well, you are the last man on earth, so I guess my choices are few.’

So I will continue to count myself as lucky that I found the woman I did. And that she is happy with her choice, as I am.

And no, I can’t jump the track, my car is tied to a cable, my life is an hourglass, glued to the table.
But…
Who would ever want to find the rewind?
Since I no longer have to cradle my head in my hands.

And I can breathe.