Sometime between eating donuts from the dumpster last night in San Jose and stepping off of an airplane in San Francisco a week ago, I was on my knees in front of Whole Foods, begging my ex-girlfriend to take me back. I hadn’t seen her for eight months. The last thing she had said to me was a text message sent a month ago, reading, “FUCK U. I NEVER WANT TO SEE U AGAIN.â€
Whatever, I thought, she’s just playing hard to get.
So, realizing that I was probably in love or something, I decided that I’d fly out to her. I thought if she could just see me in person, her heart would melt; I thought she would give up the act. As I sat on the airplane, I fantasized about our reunion. I imagined it to be something like that scene from The Notebook that they put on the cover of the movie, the one where they’re making out in the rain. I guess it had been a lonely summer.
After I landed in California, I spent the next few days pestering her with text messages and having my calls incessantly forwarded. Finally, though, after leaving enough pathetic and depressing voicemails, she couldn't resist my seduction anymore; she agreed to meet with me. It was right in the middle of the lunch hour rush when I decided to make my move.
“Please, please,†I whispered between sniffles as snot and tears made a mess on my face.
We were in Cupertino, the heart of Silicon Valley. There wasn’t a better place in the world that I could be doing this. We were surrounded by Apple employees shoving organic salad down their throats and distracting themselves on their iPads. They seemed to be enjoying my performance, though. I was hoping that if I tried hard enough, I could even get an applause.
I mustered all of my strength, anguish, and pain, pulling it deep from the pit of my stomach. I opened my big, brown, beautiful eyes and gave her the best sad, little, puppy dog face anyone has ever seen. It was great having an audience; I was really reaching my full potential. My lip even started to quiver. You would have been amazed at my attention to detail – a true artist. I even thought I heard a guy sobbing, but I turned to realize that he was only choking on a piece of lettuce.
Egomaniac, I thought as I stared at him. I didn't wait eight months and fly three-thousand miles to have some attention whore ruin this for me now.
I turned back to my ex-girlfriend and really laid it on this time. The tears were really flowing now. I was starting to get concerned that she might just think I was overacting.
“I n-n-need you,†I whimpered.
Surely, I had won her over with that. Surely, I had won them all over. I was already planning out my acceptance speech in my head and how I would be sure to thank all of those wonderful and inspiring customers of Whole Foods, Cupertino.
“I couldn’t have done it without you!†I would say with a crooked smile on my face and a twinkle in my eye.
I looked back up, all bleary-eyed, squeezed her hands, and gazed into her eyes like a little, lost puppy. There was no way she could say “no†to me now. She was feeling my sorrow deep in her soul. She was regretting all those forwarded calls and “FUCK U†texts.
But instead of accepting me, or giving me any feedback at all, she just kind of stared at me.
I think she was bored.
“Are you almost done?†she asked, checking her phone. “My dad’s going to be here any minute.â€
As she flipped her hair back and gazed around at everyone watching us, I was reminded of everything I hated about California. Before I could even open my mouth to respond, an SUV pulled up behind her in the parking lot and honked it’s horn. It was her dad.
“You should go home,†she said as she stood up to leave. â€You’re just going to hurt yourself being out here.â€
I watched her get into the car and shut the door. My watery eyes could barely follow them as they left the parking lot and drove out of sight .
I thought about running after her. I really did. I thought about writing her love songs and leaving sweet notes on her car. I thought about settling down for once and cultivating a nice little love nest that we could call “home.†I thought about showering everyday, buying a car, buying a house, getting a real nice 9-5 job, not eating out of Target’s dumpster so much, not sleeping on her friends' floors so much. I thought about being dependable. I thought of a whole list of things to change about myself.
Then I thought about the last two years. I almost vomited. There reaches a certain point when you just can’t give anymore, a point when you just give up. I decided to forget about the whole thing. I wiped my eyes, got on my bike, and started to ride. When I got back to my room, I made a vow to stay productive and to focus on more important things. I picked up the copy of the city paper on my dresser, opened it to the page with the hookers, and began to jerk off madly.
