Friday, February 17, 2012

Lola vs. The Ideal Man Who Will Kick Her Teeth In

I have men thrown at me on a consistent basis. This has nothing to do with my confidence, looks, or personality. And has everything to do with people trying to rise above seemingly insurmountable odds in order to find me a relationship. These set-up offers, most of which I refuse, have increased steadily over the past year and now seem to be tinged with desperation. As if people don't actually believe I'm happy with my life the way it is.

I worry my co-workers. I baffle my family. Most of my girlfriends look at me as though I'm one of those Chinese Finger traps- useless, strangely designed, and mostly annoying.

It's even become a challenge to the people in the periphery of my life. My deli guy is bound and determined to find me a husband. Not a day goes by that he doesn't ask me if I'm still single while questioning my sanity. Although he also alternates from threatening bodily harm to the guys who walk in there with me to looking at them through pitied, dark eyes and shaking his head as if to say "why do you put up with her?".

I'm not sure if he can be trusted at this point.

My driver, Jimmy the Greek, is so concerned now that I'm over thirty and still single that he has taken to calling up his investment banker clients and forcing me to talk to them while I'm on the way home from long business trips, jet-lagged and disgruntled. I went out with one of them once.

It didn't end well.

There are very few people in my life who haven't jumped on the Must-Get-Lola-Settled-Down-Tomorrow Bandwagon. Possibly because they are convinced I turn men insane. One of them actually compared my lady parts to the One Ring. Maybe some of the guys I've gone out with eventually danced to the tune of crazy but I certainly can't say that I've created a string of bald, drooling Gollums who clutch my picture in their cold hands while whispering,"My precious." Thanks, CT, for giving me that creepy image.

I find it incredibly strange that it's become a thing for people to try and find a guy who will bring me around to the idea of, well, being with them on, yikes, a regular basis. At this point it almost seems less about me and more about who can finally find someone to bring me down so that they can laugh maniacally about it.

Kane generally finds my stubborn refusal to give in to the whole relationship epidemic amusing and has said that he would much rather see me continue my Valentine's day tradition of trampling the hearts of the innocent. However, according to the Notes App on my iPhone at 3:58 am a few months ago, even he has broached the subject of the man who might possibly one day "kick my teeth in." Since I've pieced together our conversation from the absolute mess of drunken words jumbled together in the note, I can only assume "kick my teeth in" is meant in a good way. As best as I can tell the discussion must have gone something like this:

Kane: Smart, definitely. And he has to have an interesting job so you won't get bored.
Lola: Musician?
Kane: (making a deafening buzzer noise) You've been there. Done that. Someone involved with space.
Lola: Space? Like a Jedi? Okay, so he's fictional. I'm less nervous now about the teeth kicking.
Kane: A modern day Jedi. An astronaut. Maybe he's socially awkward about being an astronaut. We don't know.
Lola: Wait- is that an actual job still? And why does he have to be socially awkward?
Kane: LISTEN TO MEEEE.... (I don't think he actually yelled at me during this conversation but it's fun to imagine him yelling at me. Because he's a really great drunk yeller. Like champion drunk yeller. He once got kicked out of a bar at a wedding we both attended after buying the entire bar Patron shots. It was amazing.)... Obviously, when you try and run he won't let you do the actual running. But he'll be so good at making you not run that you won't even realize that you aren't running.
Lola: So basically you've decided that I'll end up with a manipulative stalker astronaut who may or may not have Aspergers and who could potentially tie me up and keep me locked in his basement. Awesome.

Do you hear that you dirty, filthy set-me-uppers? The gauntlet has been thrown. If someone out there can find me the exact man that Kane has described, maybe I'll let my teeth get kicked in.

Or not.

5 comments:

*uncorked photography said...

I would only ever set you up with me. And we can be dirty and filthy together.

P.S. My captcha security words are Buffington and Afresco. Weird.

Lola Lakely said...

You are the only set up I would ever agree to. Dirty and fitly 4 eva.

Matt said...

Are you sure all these setter uppers in your life don't have some kind of pool going on where the winner gets a crazy grand prize? It almost seems like it's more "I was the one who get Lola to settle down" not "yay, I'm glad to see Lola happy." When the crazy part is, you genuinely seem happy right now.

However, if this whole thing is a contest - I want in. Only if I can serve myself up as a candidate. Then it's a wrap.

linlah said...

The guy Kane describes doesn't sound like a keeper, too tame for you.

Lola Lakely said...

Dearest Mr. O,

There may be a bet going on, actually, now that I think about it. It seems like some of my friends may get off on that. Hmmm, I wonder what kind of grand prize I would be worth?

Oh, would you now? That may be worth coming up with a few games in this Lola contest.


Linlah,

Kane is my besets good friend and although he definitely is a keeper, he's not my keeper. We're like brother and sister.