Originally Posted: 2003-06-03 19:35 (no longer live)
print

It's the wanting to be noticed...

I love this city, but Boston's rectal coal compression potential is enough to threaten even Africa's diamond industry. Why is that I wondered...
It occured to me, perhaps belatedly, while walking past the Women's Gym in Porter, from whose doors packs of women file out each day as I pass, that people in this city (and undoubtably other cities) all want to be noticed and approached themselves. And I admit that I generally try to catch the eye of certain women as they file past me in their spandex and what have you, without ever cracking much of a friendly smile. Accordingly, I am never met with so much as a friendly nod of the head (I guess that would techinically be a guy-hi). Now, you might be thinking that I am abhorrently misfigured, or "sketchy" or whatever, but I assure you, and my word is gold, that I was alays amongst the first kids chosen in gym class, if not the captain. Of course, I realize upon minor reflection that coming sweaty and distratced from the gym is probably not one of those times when people want to be approached, BUT beyond that it seems like everyone is waiting for that chimerical 'other' to come and notice them, post cardio and otherwise.
Rather than themselves being the 'other' out there noticing and making such notice known. So, bad example as it might be, the girl coming from the gym is never going to bother to make a hypothetical interest in me manifest, because she is waiting for me to let HER know that I am interested, in a tasteful and intelligent, nay creative manor. This seems to be embedded in the instance, repeated 1,000's of times daily, when two people of ostensibly complimentary sexual orientation look at eachother without so much as a smirk. The immutable Boston scowl, on the T, on the streets, seldom loses to a friendly smile, because no one is willing to make the first fucking move and admit that they might actually be attracted to the person they keep glancing at. So it goes that day in and day out people check each other out with nothing kinder than a collector's appraisal, nothing warmer than an even tempered, straight-lipped glare. At best there's the occasional presence of something like longing in the person's face, but never something as endearing and comfortable as open friendliness. In Estonia they say "May your face be as ice", only half-jokingly, and they carry off their stoicism to great, miserable effect. Now, Bush might be an asshole, but his legacy will undoubtably ring with greater levity than that of the Soviet Union and the Third Reich. Really, we don't have a hell of a lot to scowl about, except maybe the price of rent. So, lighten up people, and I am including myself in this, and try to engender the metaphysics of flirtation with something akin to goodwill and mirth. If you want the other person to make the first move, then try to think of that beautiful, enticing stanger that is sitting across from you on the train as a nervous and superstitious child, and your mien as a room that you can either present as sunny, and inviting, or cobwebby, dark, and smelly. Most kids, perhaps Crispin Glover aside, would opt for the sunny room because cobwebs in the eye suck... and who wants to guess at the origin of foul smells. Open a few windows already...


post id: 12016680