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     Grand Inquisitor

relax

                                                         Armando Valle

 

     What's a wonderwall anyway? Where's your love? Relax. It'll come.

     Sitting here on yet another Thursday night I've no agenda, no cravings, no motivation. This is temporary--the cravings and motivation will return soon enough. So I'm single at the moment, and I wonder what kind of time I could be having if I were to be in a relationship, in love, all that jazz. It's summer and I can't help but notice all the couples out there, at the movies, at the restaurants, at the stores, on the fields, at the shores. It's a summer of love for many.

     Not for me so far. I haven't met anyone during these sweet warm months. Come to think of it I haven't met anyone this year. Takes courage to own up to it. And why haven't I met anyone? Dunno. I'm not a recluse, not antisocial, and not afraid to ask the ladies out--well, not afraid as long as they don't look like they just dropped from Heaven. Those types always take a mountain-climb to work up to and at that top sometimes there's much dissapointment. What I am is different. I'm Puerto Rican, and I look the part: foreign, exotic. Unfortunately, I look to exotic around these corners because I can't seem to find a local girl that thinks it would be worthwile to spend some time with me. I guess around these corners, exotic means ugly.

     Why am I rambling about all this? Just musing really. I'm quite content with who I am and my situation. Ultimately, it does suck to be alone. I think all the things I could be doing with a pretty, artistic, smart girl at my side, all the things I could share with her, and I can help but to feel some melancholy. The point is I'm not doing anything wrong--the world just won't throw me a bone.

     And who are being thrown the lucky bones now? Let's take my good friend Will--he of the unlucky crush with a collegiate partner. That girl, Jill, fluttered away in a cloud of doubts, recriminations and unresolved issues. Will, like me, is a good man: has goals, is active, educated, has principles, keeps some money, not desperate, brushes his teeth--you get the picture. Will wasn't having much luck, getting the typical treatment that good men get from the modern dating world: snubbing after snubbing, dissapointment after dissapointment, s**t on top of s**t.

     Well, Will has gotten lucky, at least for the time being. He's dating two ladies right now with a third waiting on the wings. When it rains it pours doesn't it? He's having sex regularly--probably having it right now as I write this. He's not in love, not considering anything seriously. Will has joined the army and will depart Baltimore in a couple of months for a period of several years so there's no need to consider anyone seriously. Just good times and as much sex as you can get. The girls don't know about each other. And the third girl is someone he's been chatting to on the Net for some time. He's proposed marriage to her, the crazy bastard, and crazier still, the girl's coming to Baltimore soon to "explore the possibility." Don't get me started on the Net marriage proposal thing--that's another column altogether.

     The thing's Will getting lucky and I'm getting zip. I'm playing the rules: Make good money. Pursue My Goals. Have A Life. Keep Fit. Live independently. You name it, I'm doing it. And yet I'm still here, on a Thursday evening, thinking what to do with myself on the weekend and wondering what sensitive, tender, great-catch of a brunette I could be rolling in bed with.

     I don't get it. I'm not suppose to.

     But after I vent, it's ok. Really. I'm happy for Will, and I'm not one to seed envy and jealousy. Because I know something all wise men know: Every good dog has its day. The world will eventually throw me a bone.

     So my advice to all you guys out there going thru the same thing: Relax. Be the best you can be (in the army? Smile) Desperation isn't attractive. And every man, no matter how they been built was put here to love someone.

     For god's sake, even Stephen Hawking's married. And the man can't even lift a finger.

     So relax.

     There's no design for life.

     There's no devil's haircut in your mind.

     There's not a wonderwall to climb, or step around.

     What's a wonderwall anyway? Where's your love? Relax. It'll come.

 

     (thanx to Travis for some inspiration.)

    

                                          Armando Valle                                            (Jul/20/00)

                                                                          copyright 2000  

     Armando Valle can be e-mailed at:[email protected]

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