The “rules” of attraction.

What makes someone attractive?

It sounds like a relatively simple question with a seemingly obvious answer, but the fact of the matter is that the rules of attraction are neither simple nor obvious.

I had an interesting encounter with someone recently. This particular guy didn’t exactly fit the mold of the type of person I am typically attracted to.

Typically. That’s a loaded word. I should never use the word typically in any sentence where I am describing myself.

My typical tendencies (or lack thereof) aside, I found myself attracted to this guy, and yet simultaneously repulsed by him. Quite the oxymoron, huh?

He didn’t play games. He was forward and direct. He said exactly what he wanted. It was refreshing and different, yet at the same time, slightly abrupt and offensive. I couldn’t figure him out, even though on the surface it seemed as if he was transparent.

I didn’t know how to respond. At first I was flattered…even turned on. I started to get into the game of not playing games. But then I realized we were playing a game…just a different kind of game. And then something in me shifted. I suddenly wasn’t sure if I could compete (or wanted to compete, rather) in this type of game. It made me uncomfortable. And yet, for some reason, I let it continue.

Afterwards, several hours removed from the moment, I got to thinking. Why was I attracted to this guy? And why did I let myself become so easily swayed by the crudeness of his behavior? I actually used the word “refreshing” to describe him. Yet really, the situation was anything but.

Got you. You’re mine now. For the rest of the day, week, month, year, life. Have you guessed who I am? Sometimes I think you have. Sometimes when you’re standing in a crowd I feel those sultry, dark eyes of yours stop on me. Are you too afraid to come up to me and let me know how you feel? I want to moan and writhe with you and I want to go up to you and kiss your mouth and pull you to me and say “I love you I love you I love you” while stripping. I want you so bad it stings. I want to kill the ugly girls that you’re always with. Do you really like those boring, naive, coy, calculating girls or is it just for sex? The seeds of love have taken hold, and if we won’t burn together, I’ll burn alone.

You can never really trust frozen food.

Last night I rushed to the grocery store in my kiss-covered pajama pants & Red Sox hoodie, eager to get my weekly grocery shopping done before the start of what would prove to be an extremely disappointing Celtics vs. Magic Game 7. I wasn’t really concerned that my appearance resembled that of a bear coming out of hibernation after a long winter. I just wanted to stock up on Lean Cuisines, oatmeal and yogurt for the week ahead.

I efficiently made my trip around the grocery store collecting each item on my mental checklist in a state of complete disregard for anything – and anyone – around me. As I debated over which Lean Cuisines I was in the mood for this week, I continued to remain oblivious to my surroundings.

Is that one good?

I glanced over to my left. Was this guy in the awful mustard-colored “Super Fan” Boston College t-shirt talking to me?

It looks good, but you can never really trust frozen food.

I humored him for a few minutes as I tried to figure out why he seemed so familiar. After a strange, and far too long, conversation about frozen food I realized that a) the time before tip-off was rapidly approaching and b) I didn’t really want to be talking to him anyways.

So I mumbled something about needing to get going so I could get back home for the game and started to veer in the direction of the checkout counter.

Well, it was nice to meet you. What’s your name? I’m Mike.

It suddenly hit me. This guy in the frozen food aisle was the same “Mike” who had hit on me in the cereal aisle about a year ago. Seriously, I thought, is this guy for real? At that point my mind & body instantly went into escape mode.

As I half-walked/half-ran back to my apartment, I couldn’t help but remain completely perplexed by what had just transpired in the grocery store. I remembered first meeting “Cereal Guy,” as my friends & I had dubbed him. I remember the awkwardly forced conversation about my mango crunch cereal selection. I remember not being able to make up a lie about having a boyfriend when he told me he’d like to hang out. I remember not being able to quickly come up with a fake number to give him when he asked for my digits. I remember responding to his first two text messages and then transitioning into an ignore & avoid strategy. And I remember forcing the fizzle.

Did he really not remember any of that first encounter? Or did he actually remember and just pretend as if he didn’t? Or – worse – does he just make a habit of hitting on unsuspecting grocery store shoppers by commenting casually on their cereal and frozen food selections? Either way, it didn’t look good for him.

Oh well, I thought. This time I handled it the way I should have handled it the first time. I was nice, but I didn’t let the conversation get to the point where he could ask me for my number. I cut him off a couple steps before that question. Now it’s just a funny story. At least that’s what I thought…

A couple hours later I received a Facebook friend request from someone named Michael. Noooooooooooo, I thought, it just couldn’t be! Oh, but it was. “Cereal Guy” turned “Frozen Food Guy” had somehow found me on Facebook and decided it would be perfectly normal to request me as a friend. Let’s think about this for a moment, shall we?

He was armed with the following information:

– Emily

– from Virginia

– who was currently living in Boston

– after attending grad school at Emerson

Okay, so maybe I gave him a little too much informational ammunition. But still. Who does that?! Obviously, things didn’t exactly work out the first time. So why would he even bother?

Needless to say, I have not accepted his friend request. But I also haven’t ignored it. At least not yet. Don’t worry, I fully intend on pressing the oh so ominous “ignore” button, but not until I’ve fully scoured his profile page in an attempt to discover a reason for his apparent insanity. Seriously, who does this kind of thing?

Falling in love…every day.

I fall in love just about every single day. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), this love is generally unrealistic, unrequited and extremely fleeting. In fact, most people probably wouldn’t even call it love at all.

But it is. At least for me. And the funny part about it is that it’s good enough for me…at least for now.

Maybe I should rewind a bit…

I fall in love practically every day – with random people I encounter. However, I probably shouldn’t use the word “encounter” as it implies some form of interaction, which isn’t usually part of my falling in love. In fact, when there is some form of engagement, I typically fall out of love just as quickly as I fell in.

I fall in love with people that may (or may not) possess exactly what I need, what I want and what I’m looking for. I like not knowing. I like the mystery. I fall in love with the possibility.

I generally fall in love with people based on the personality and interests I create for them in my head. Most likely, these people aren’t what I imagine them to be at all. I suppose that’s where the fleetingness of my falling in love comes into play.

But there is always a possibility. I love the possibility that my falling in love, as I see it, could one day actually lead to falling in love, as most other people see it.

Silly as it may be, I love that I can so easily fall in love. It makes life just a little more interesting. Even if the added excitement exists only in my head…