True story: Once upon a time I had a serious crush on someone in particular in my circle. Great girl. Not the hottest chick in the room, but with the magical X factor that made you forget all about that after talking with her for few minutes. She was interested in me and she got under my skin. Jennifer not too keen on her though. Awkward.
What killed my interest off though, and by killed off, I mean scales-falling-from-my-eyes “WTF was I thinking” switch thrown in my head, was her written English punctuation. Let me just sidetrack here a second to say that I’m a hypocrite on this issue. Despite being an author, I have some kind of highly focused mental retardation for understanding things like what a noun is, or an adverb. Tell me not to finish a sentence with a preposition and I’ll nod and smile and say I understand… but I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. And yes people have tried. My schooling is littered with English teachers driven to drink and a deep abiding regret for the passing of corporal punishment.
…all that being said, I do know enough to know that sentences need to start with capital letters and the word “I” isn’t written as “i”. I also use periods. And line returns. I got this email from her one day and it simply read as a stream of illiteracy and it was over. Lolcat is fun but not teh sexy. Yous cant haz Atholburger.
I lost all motivation and our friendship just withered away in a fiasco of me trying to half-ass White Knight her during a fairly legit shitty hand her life had just dealt her. Plus to her credit I suspect she didn’t want to do to Jennifer what had just been done to her. In the end nothing happened and we just lost contact. Jennifer happier of course but I’ve always had this really odd sense of rejecting someone for their written English as being extremely petty of me. I did the right thing for the wrong reasons, so I felt like an asshole for doing so. Attraction isn’t controllable.
What makes me suddenly remember all this is my sister’s Facebook image of the day…
Now I know that’s just a Google screen capture, and I really do NOT think my friend was playing STD Pokemon (gotta catch ’em all) but it made me check up and think about it all again. Seems more and more like a good call to default to being an elitist jerk when it comes to letting women into your life. Have some standards. Make them jump through some hoops to get to you.
I did attend St. Hogwarts so the muggle hating gene might have been activated there. I’d love to claim that my elementary and middle school Christian education bred manners and sexual purity into me, but apparently concepts such as line-of-sight were beyond the faculty’s… faculty. Boys and girls playing tag + can’t see us from the teacher’s lounge = “catch and kiss” games that would make a polyamory convention seem quaintly restrained.
I can probably segue that into a discussion about how females given the opportunity and lack of shaming can be quite happy to experiment with mutliple partners in quick succession. Or open up the “is monogamy natural” debate, but I need to stop here and go check-in on my daughters…
Jennifer: Lesson learned – Never let your husband do nice things for other women. There are no White Knights, only Horny Knights.