The End of the Story of the Boy I Met at the Mall

I agreed to meet with the boy who followed me in the mall. There were three things that came out of it:

1. I over estimated his looks. Let's just say some things aren't worth a second glance.

2. He won't stop talking! Seriously, I've never met anyone who can talk about a wide range of topics without even being asked...and without even realizing that the person he is speaking to isn't remotely interested.

3. In the midst of all his blabber about his life in the province or the girls he used to do, I found myself falling.....asleep. Seriously. There came a point when I literally couldn't discern his words, it was like one long drone lulling me to sleep. So fall asleep I did.

And you know what's the worst part? I traded that for a night with my family! Yesterday was a holiday and, by some opportune twist of fate, my sister didn't have work. Nights like those, we would usually watch a DVD, tease each other and ultimately sleep in one of the rooms, all four of us. Yes, we're a tightly knit family, and no, I don't know why I turned gay with that kind of background.

After the rendezvous, I realize how pathetic I was, thinking I would find love in a person I played a staring game with at the mall. This...this is just an entirely new low for me. I mean, what is it with me and my elusive enchantment with love, along with my pretension that I don't care one bit about it? Because I do. I'm one of those persons who pretend I don't care about ending up alone, but there's a dark lurking feeling inside me that says I just might be one of those old crooked bachelors. I do care about love and pretending that I don't tears me up little by little.

So, as I'm reading David Sedaris right now, I find it imperative to finally come up with a list of non-negotiables that a prospect partner must have. It's nothing, really. He must just be totally into: Coldplay, Killers, Brandon Flowers. U2, Pink, Stars, Death Cab for Cutie, or any 3 of the mentioned with the first two as essential requisites. How hard can that be? Quite difficult, apparently. I have yet to find a person who shares the same fascination as I have with regard to, say, A Dustland Fairytale.

Also, that person must have a fair amount of loathing for v-neck shirts, boots for men, and permanently worn glasses (which I wear, and which is why, whenever we would hypothetically run out of topics, we could always drop the "I hate wearing glasses" line and talk forever about it). The person must enjoy pop culture as much as I do, but, no, he must not listen nor read nor even mention Cristy Fermin or Lolit Solis in any of our conversations. In fact, it would be pretty incredible if one day we switch channels to the local tv and he asks upon seeing either, "Who is that sea urchin?"

And Desperate Housewives! Modern Family! How can I forget? And food. God, I hope he knows how to cook good food.

Let me see.. that person must know when and how to shut up. The inexplicable silence as we read a book and take ourselves on entirely separate journeys , but together? This just brings to mind A Single Man, arguably my pink film of choice. The earlier part of the film perfectly illustrates the kind of life I want in the future... quiet, alone, exciting.

It also wouldn't hurt if that person was smart, dangerous, decent-looking, etc. Hey, with six failed relationships at a golden age of twenty, I can afford to be choosy right? Please, please, please tell me I am right.

....I am so shallow...and nervous about our Obligations and Contracts class. I really ought to study.