Ok fine. Some of you have been pestering me more than a five year old in the candy aisle, one arm wrapped around the giant M&M, the other hand buried into my forearm flesh. I wasn’t ready to give up the goodies before, but now I will.
Yes, you can have the M&Ms: it’s time to talk about Grunge Pixie.
There isn’t much to say really. That’s the candy coating on why I hadn’t mentioned it before. I also wanted to let the package settle a bit before I opened it. This way I could leave out the emotional nuts, and let you know what was really there.
I guess you could say the package is half empty.
First the Rob peanut: I had a great time. GP is a great host, and my week with her was probably one of my best since the divorce.
Then the Grunge Plain: I’m not what she’s looking for. It’s ok; we’re still friendly. I’m not sure if it was my tangerine Speedo snow angels in her apartment complex courtyard, or just the lemon tart burst of realizing I wasn’t to her taste. The why doesn’t matter. Not everybody loves chocolate covered Robs.
I’m not going to lie though: it was a little tough to get over. And when Cosmo ran away on New Year it felt like I’d been rejected twice. Yeah, it’s like grabbing the Jalapeño jelly belly and expecting spearmint: you discover that not only are your taste buds shot, you find that you’re apparently color blind as well, cuz no. They don’t look alike at all.
Still, in a weird way doubling my un-pleasure helped. I wasn’t allowed to focus on one issue. When one problem seemed pungently overwhelming, I could move to the other. Sure, it’s not the Altoid of joy, but it is the Lifesaver I had available.
Don’t get me wrong. Grunge Pixie is a great woman. I recommend you say hi if you’re ever in the area. She makes awesome lasagna, and is eye catching in a black skirt; definitely the highlight of my Seattle tour.
It’s just that now now I’m getting back to being alone Rob. No, that’s not nearly as pathetic as it sounds. It’s just a different flavor: it’s marked on the box. It says “new and improved.” There’s a starburst around it; it must be true. I know that somebody out there will like what they see, and try a box of Robs again.
Since my last effort failed, I’m thinking of trying something new, maybe adding a little peanut butter to Rob’s chocolate. A news article last year gave me an idea. It was about a dating service getting couples together through sweat samples. That’s right you send them the sweat from your brow, and they’ll match you with somebody who thinks you’re the cats nip.
It’s an intriguing thought. My only problem is that I’m kinda poor. I need to improvise. What I’m thinking is that I can do this on my own, and eliminate the stinky middleman.
Here’s the plan: I’m back on my workout schedule again. So far so good. Between the Cosmo, Grunge Pixie, and the weight machine, I’m down 10 pounds from New Years.
Now, if work out for a week without deodorant. Then the following Friday I can go out for coffee and troll for women with my sweaty shirt. Any woman left standing is fair game, and if she’s sway woozy from the heat, well then she’s ample prey. It’s like hunting chunky kids at the Cinnabon. I can’t miss, and it’s the perfect way to find who likes the flavor of Rob.
Now here’s where I switch things up, and add the cherry swirl. I read another article yesterday. It says that women can tell my intents by the smell of my sweat. That’s right. If I watch porn during my workout my sweat says, “I want sex.” I watch Dr. Phil, it says, “I’m sad and pathetic.” So now I’m wondering, how do I make my smell say, “hey, I want a real relationship?” I asked several women about this, but unfortunately they had bitter tastes in their mouths, “Turn the heat up till you sweat, and then sit on the couch and watch TV. That smells like marriage to me.”
Although it may be a start, I’m not sure it’s what I want my scent to say. I want Rob-aroma to say, “Hey, I’m a good guy.” I thought about trying different activities and then sneaking up on women in the mall with a waft-pad to see what they said, but somehow the “sneaking” thing didn’t smell “good guy” to me and I do believe in truth in advertising.
So I’m not sure how to handle it. For now, I’m just gonna put my box on the shelf and see if anybody notices. Somebody will enjoy Rob.
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