Soundtracked

High

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This week's theme: Soundtracks

I'm gonna cut right to the point and work my way back: Sometimes, I'm an asshole.

If I did the math right, let's go back to February of '99. I would've been with The Advantage Company for just over a year...I started out in their service center   as a customer service rep/assistant manager; a thankless job, really. People were generally pissed off when they had to see you, because it usually meant their VCR or stereo was broken...and naturally it's all your fault because you work for the company that sold it to them and people are jerks. One of the first things I was told very early on was that you can't take customers' words personally, even though we were expected to provide personal, friendly service. And that could be difficult, because I tend to be an empath at times.

But being that so many of us in the building were in the same boat, we had a great bond. There was us downstairs, with the technicians and evaluators on one half of the second floor and the parts department and office staff on the other side. I hate saying this because I don't like to refer to myself in such a way, but I was pretty well-liked by just about everyone there, and sometimes divides would happen because maybe a tech didn't care for one of the door people, or couldn't get a part fast enough, or one of the girls in the office said one thing over the phone to a customer and an evaluator could see something totally different. That's how it goes...I was lucky I guess that I was good at what I did and was personable and friendly enough to bridge gaps between the different functions of the building and the groups involved.

It also helped that most of us were young; I was 22 when I was hired, probably right around the average age for most of the support staff. And somehow I allowed myself to host an anti-Valentines' Day get-together for the single people. There was some of my fellow door crew (most of us were the raucous party bunch, continuing our shift down the street at the Keystone Grill several times a week once we locked the doors for the night and counted up the money), a couple of the younger evaluators (they usually diagnosed incoming units and did the easy fixes because they maybe didn't have the proper technical certifications required to replace major parts), and some of the office girls...it was their idea, if I remember correctly, and because I had my own place I was the logical choice to house the shindig.

It's also worth noting that I was particularly close to the girls in the office...not because they were girls, but because it was a nice place to get away from the demands of the front door once in awhile.

So anyway, there were maybe 8 or 10 of us? Couldn't have been more, because my apartment wasn't very big and being that it was February, partying on my patio wasn't an option. The plan was for everyone to bring some snacks, I'd provide some beers, we'd order a pizza, and watch a couple movies because we weren't anyone's special someones so fuck 'em...a low-key affair and a far cry from the summertime cookouts I would throw together with my friends, some family members, and a few close co-worker buddies that would turn into ragers occasionally interrupted by police presence (but those are stories for another time...RIP toilet seat Verno never fixed but the weird McGowan dude swore he did ).

One of the girls, who was really into the whole idea of this gathering, went all-out...really above and beyond what I was expecting. There was homemade dips, and flowers, and lotsa effort on her behalf. If I thought I was awesome just for having a couch and a tv, she really made the entire experience. It felt like it was all something more than maybe it was originally intended to be.

I know there were two movies involved. I don't remember what one of them was, but the other was Can't Hardly Wait  ...not the kind of thing you'd expect people working in consumer electronics would get together and watch, but I guess it was the typical teen romance chick flick thing. It wasn't on my Blockbuster card, so I guess I really didn't have a say either. I was just excited people who weren't in with my usual cast of characters wanted to spend time with me in my cool-ass li'l apartment.

Movies aimed at the teenage crowd though...I'll say this: they have some kickass soundtracks. It's a known fact, all throughout cinematic history. I ain't even gonna front; the storylines are complete contrived bullshit (none of us is hookin' up with our school's Jennifer Love Hewitt, ever, c'mon) but the music is always spot-on. From the 60's on through. If generations are loosely categorized by popular movies, the soundtracks inevitably become ours. It's not the plot that defines coming of age...it's the song(s) that play behind the seminal moments.

Back to my story...so V-Day comes and goes, and the girl with the ideas and the homemade spinach artichoke dip is kinda cold to me for a few days after our soiree. I guess she really liked me, and the whole thing was put together in part because she had a little crush on me, and I wasn't appreciative enough of her efforts. And don't get me wrong; she was a really cool girl and an awesome friend, but I just didn't see her as being something more than that. I also didn't know how to say it like such in a way that wouldn't crush her, so like any typically stupid clueless boy I just let things go until she lit into me about it.

And it was ugly because, let's face it, no one pretty-cries. Crying is always ugly...at least in these kinds of situations. It doesn't look good on anyone. And of course I felt awful. Like, I just wanted to host a get-together for us all and have a good time with everyone! And I thought she was just being really nice and outgoing and friendly and all that. I never looked at her as someone I'd want to be romantically involved in...especially not during an anti-Valentines' Day bash! It was rough-goings for a little while. Super cool, down to earth, fun to hang out with...but that was it for me. I was completely oblivious to anything else that might've suggested something different.

And sometimes it takes physically typing out a story seventeen years later to realize that maybe you are an asshole and maybe you need to pay more attention to what you do and say to people you interact with on a daily basis . In some kind of alternate universe I should've fallen in love with her, and there would've been our own happy ending and who knows how different life would've been? Instead, I kept up the trend of being so fucking oblivious to people who actually did like me for all the right reasons even when I kept chasing after other girls who weren't nearly as worthy as someone who could've been both a best friend and a soulmate (and I hate the term "soul mate", which probably deserves its own entry, also some other time).

"Don't wait up 'cuz I won't be home."
Lyrics.  

And I think that's why you don't hear me whine about being 40 and single and never having been married...I've had my chances. I did the long-term dating thing. Lots of beautiful women. Deep down, there is a romantic side to me. And while some people turned out not to be right for me, the biggest reason has always been me. I've accepted this. I'm learning to be ok with it. I just don't know how to function in a relationship. I'm selfish and needy and my expectations are grossly overinflated at times and I don't match the other person's level of commitment...and it's not from lack of effort; I've tried. I've learned from mistakes, but I seem to have a knack for inventing new ones when I put my skills to practice. I mean well. But I am also oblivious, mostly, to women who also mean well and have even better intentions than I do. And the only conclusion I can come to from all of my experiences with the fairer sex is that I'm an asshole. A selfish, undisciplined, scatterbrained fuckface of an asshole. And nowadays, I'm learning more about how not to irritate myself with that realization than I'm worried about slapping a bandaid ladyfriend over the wounds and calling it "progress".