So Lonely

Well it's Saturday night an I'm home alone, so how about I cry over how I don't have a girlfriend. Magic just doesn't pull in women, I don't know why there's a lot of math and I suppose it just doesn't have much appeal. Foreign women pursue the degree, but tend to associate with people from their own country, and if they date I guess that's who.

That's only the proximate cause of my problem. Investment bankers and fighter pilots tend to be men as well, but when they see a woman they know what to do. I don't.

I am a loser.

:: sigh ::

I was at the watchtower last night with David. Yeah, again. I should probably tell you right now that if you don't like stories about me at the bar you probably should forget about this blog. Pool and three beers is a big night for me.

OK, where was I? Self pity, right! So I was at the watchtower playing pool with David, the other night when we caught sight of these two girls checking us out. I never would have noticed, but David whacked me in the leg with his queue and staged whispered, "Man, those hottie are scoping us!"

I looked over. They weren't exactly hotties. Well that sound's wrong, I don't mean to imply they were ugly. I just mean they looked more like a couple of low level professionals unwinding after work then over-styled members of the beautiful set out on the prowl. "Nah, they're just looking this direction. I bet they want a waitress."

"Dude, they are scoping us out," David bent 'out' into a bit of a howling sound.

"I read about this. Someone did a study; men tend to overestimate women's interest in them. They studied a bunch of college students and males are two times a likely a female to assume the same expression means interest."

As though to prove me wrong, one of the girls giggled and then looked away kind of shyly as she noticed us noticing them. The other nudged her and said something. "Quit being a downer. They want us. Let's go over there and talk to them."

"Let's just keep playing. I'm not dressed for this."

"You look fine."

"I look like a wire hanger." There's not picture on this blog (because if we meet in real life I don't want you to recognize me) but let's just say I'm tall and scrawny. To my credit I think I have a pretty good sense of style, but most cloths are designed to show off features I just don't have.

"I'm going. I tell you this so you'll understand you're going to look like a geek if you stand here playing with your balls all alone." David set off, and I basically had to follow.

The girls really had been checking us out which I still count the biggest wonder of the night, so at David's incredibly smooth, "I don't think I've seen you around here," they both schooched over to let us in. I ended up next to the quieter of the couple; a girl with brown blond hair, and stylish but very thick glasses.

We all exchanged the usual pleasantries. "So do you guys play?" David ask looking totaly at the girl he was sitting next to.

"I'll kick you're butt!"

"You're on." David slid out of the seat and the girl, Jane, rose to follow staggering into him slightly. That elicited a giggle from her, and an entirely unnecessary helping hand from him. It also left me and the quite girl, Carol, alone.

I didn't know if I should move to the other side of the booth. I didn't want to look like I didn't want to be next to her, but we were still just talking like two strangers, so I didn't want to intrude on her space. Compromising my way into the worst situation, I over thought it until I should have stayed put, decided i should move, stood and executed a fake stretch, then plunked down on the other side of the booth, feeling profoundly foolish.

"Um, so dental hygienist? That must be interesting."

Carol made a face, "Not really. It's kind of like brushing people's teeth all day long."

"Oh."

"Some of them really need their teeth brushed. There are nights when I feel like I can still smell the rotten breath all night long."

To my female readers: this is not how you seduce a man. "Sorry."

"Job hazard. So, you're a magician. You must be smart."

I shrugged and chuckled my best modest laugh. "It's not so bad." I wasn't being humble, by the way. People always at like magic is so hard, and I guess school and new spell design qualify, but I've told you my day to day work. I feel fairly inferior to people the hard exploratory sciences most of the time.

"Can you show me some magic?"

I should have just made a flirty joke. Instead I offered to try.

"Oh cool."

I looked around. There were a couple of napkins on the table, but they were soggy messes. "I don't suppose you have something that will burn?"

She dug a cigarette out of a purse nearly the size of an overnight bag. "It's just clove. I don't really smoke them, but about once a week I like the smell."

"It will work beautifully."

I concentrated and easily tapped into that vast flow of energy I've described before. Mumbling focus words under my breath I struggled against every other fool trying to light a fire without a match everywhere else in the world. First, I tried Marcuses exciter, attempting to jiggle extra energy into the molecules of the paper. It was no good, they felt the size of bowling balls. I hadn't expected that one to work, so I gave up quickly. Next came fundamental joining, a more complex form of focus. I had a little bit of luck, made the paper hot at least. When that didn't do any good, I gave Superior Graphite Alteration, a shot. I was shocked how hard that was. Last I knew, that one was kind of obscure. I barely know Failed Mass Addition, but with a little fumbling I got that going, and mentally I felt the paper start to get hot enough to combust. Thinking quickly (and cleverly if I do say so myself) I funneled power into Fundamental Joining and the cigarette caught.

I opened my eyes and presented the cigarette to Carol with a flourish with one hand while wiping a bead of sweat off my brow with the other.

"Um, that's kinda neat." She looked bored to tears. It hit me that I'd probably just spent 20 minutes with my eyes closed straining like an idiot to produce a weakly smoldering ember at the end of a cigarette. It would have been cooler to ramble on about my stamp collection. That she could have at least said "uh huh" to. "I've got a long day tomorrow. I should get going before it get's too late."

"Oh, yeah, sure, me to."

So, in short, I don't have a girlfriend. Also, I'm nearly as cool as an autistic guy when it comes to the single scene. So it's Saturday night, and for the good of mankind, I'm staying in and catching up on my rest.

Goodnight.