Ergeheilalt
03-10-2008, 10:31 AM
I’m pretty smooth. Oh, no question. If you look at my speaking ability now and compared it to my eloquence back as a youth in Spring Valley, you’d see notable positive changes.
But obviously not enough.
A beautiful young woman, we shall say, call her… Schmatie, has been in the Mechanical Engineering program at my side for years now. We took a bunch of our first classes together and we even met at Freshman Orientation. Then and there, I was shocked by her combination of wry humor, smarts, a smile that could kill a man, and rockin’ good looks. Perfect package when you consider her desire to become an engineer. By the time I got around to asking her out, she dropped the boyfriend bomb and that ended that. Things became strange.
That was until a couple weeks ago, when I stopped her after class and asked her about some homework in one of the classes we share. She mentioned that she and her long time boyfriend were no more. My brain started running around, doing one of the best end zone touch down passes this side of the Mississippi.
Yeah, well that was just a little premature.
It came that Schmatie snapped her collar bone mountain biking this past weekend (how fucking bad ass is this woman?). The wheels turned in my head. A plan for a date, you could say, with chivalrous overtones. When not invite her over, cook for her, so she doesn’t have to stress her healing clavicle. It was, as the Guinness fellahs would say, brilliant!
Well, come Wednesday, I was sitting in our shared class, reading a book as I often do. The clock in my brain was quietly ticking away the seconds until Schmatie would show up.
Abruptly a skipping of feet and warm, pleasant “Hi James!” assailed my ears. My head swiveled towards the source. Schmatie’s face, split with a pleasant smile, beamed down at me. I took a breath that caught in my throat and threatened to tear out my esophagus. Schmatie was wearing a bright, yellow tank top today, showing off her wondrous figure. And rather than a sling, her shoulders were held back and immobilized by what looked like a mobius strip that crossed over her back. It also set her rack out on magnificent display.
Klaxon horns and whistles began ringing in my head. I had to play this cool. There was a perfect response planted somewhere in the cerebral folds of my brain. It had to be simple, but not dumb. Cool, but not ridiculous. I began parsing together words and came up with a glorious “Hiya Schmatie!” Again, more brilliant verbiage from yours truly.
But that’s not what came out.
I finally cleared a breath and grinned, “BOOBS!”
The sound of an 18 wheeler full of plate glass windows jack-knifing on the I-8 echoed across the room as what ever sense of normalcy I had was shattered. Schmatie’s head tilted to one side, her smile becoming a non-comprehending grin.
Steam lines exploded in my brain. Fires broke out. Sirens wailed. Brain cells began leaping from windows, abandoning this woe-begotten Hindenburg of man.
I stammered. I effing stammered. I do not stammer damnit. I’m cool. But I stammered.
“I…uh…ur – hurk – um yeah. Hi.”
Schmatie let out a laugh and just sat down next to me, just like every other day in our shared class. Meanwhile, my brain was hurling itself against the wall of my skull, hoping, praying that if it reduced itself to puddle of goo, it would excuse my Freudian slip. Hell, my Freudian plummet.
Then, to top it off, Schmatie skipped out of class early to see her doctor, depriving me the opportunity to ask her out.
That leaves today.
But obviously not enough.
A beautiful young woman, we shall say, call her… Schmatie, has been in the Mechanical Engineering program at my side for years now. We took a bunch of our first classes together and we even met at Freshman Orientation. Then and there, I was shocked by her combination of wry humor, smarts, a smile that could kill a man, and rockin’ good looks. Perfect package when you consider her desire to become an engineer. By the time I got around to asking her out, she dropped the boyfriend bomb and that ended that. Things became strange.
That was until a couple weeks ago, when I stopped her after class and asked her about some homework in one of the classes we share. She mentioned that she and her long time boyfriend were no more. My brain started running around, doing one of the best end zone touch down passes this side of the Mississippi.
Yeah, well that was just a little premature.
It came that Schmatie snapped her collar bone mountain biking this past weekend (how fucking bad ass is this woman?). The wheels turned in my head. A plan for a date, you could say, with chivalrous overtones. When not invite her over, cook for her, so she doesn’t have to stress her healing clavicle. It was, as the Guinness fellahs would say, brilliant!
Well, come Wednesday, I was sitting in our shared class, reading a book as I often do. The clock in my brain was quietly ticking away the seconds until Schmatie would show up.
Abruptly a skipping of feet and warm, pleasant “Hi James!” assailed my ears. My head swiveled towards the source. Schmatie’s face, split with a pleasant smile, beamed down at me. I took a breath that caught in my throat and threatened to tear out my esophagus. Schmatie was wearing a bright, yellow tank top today, showing off her wondrous figure. And rather than a sling, her shoulders were held back and immobilized by what looked like a mobius strip that crossed over her back. It also set her rack out on magnificent display.
Klaxon horns and whistles began ringing in my head. I had to play this cool. There was a perfect response planted somewhere in the cerebral folds of my brain. It had to be simple, but not dumb. Cool, but not ridiculous. I began parsing together words and came up with a glorious “Hiya Schmatie!” Again, more brilliant verbiage from yours truly.
But that’s not what came out.
I finally cleared a breath and grinned, “BOOBS!”
The sound of an 18 wheeler full of plate glass windows jack-knifing on the I-8 echoed across the room as what ever sense of normalcy I had was shattered. Schmatie’s head tilted to one side, her smile becoming a non-comprehending grin.
Steam lines exploded in my brain. Fires broke out. Sirens wailed. Brain cells began leaping from windows, abandoning this woe-begotten Hindenburg of man.
I stammered. I effing stammered. I do not stammer damnit. I’m cool. But I stammered.
“I…uh…ur – hurk – um yeah. Hi.”
Schmatie let out a laugh and just sat down next to me, just like every other day in our shared class. Meanwhile, my brain was hurling itself against the wall of my skull, hoping, praying that if it reduced itself to puddle of goo, it would excuse my Freudian slip. Hell, my Freudian plummet.
Then, to top it off, Schmatie skipped out of class early to see her doctor, depriving me the opportunity to ask her out.
That leaves today.