Desperate attempts to make one's intelligence not a liability in the eyes of the opposite sex
Ok, here's me in college:
"Hey! Hey, if you go out with me, I'll do your homework for you! Oh... Oh -- okay. I'll just...do your homework anyway, then. If that's ok."
Which, hey, it's college -- if there's ever a time that you're allowed to be a total mark for stupid boys with pretty eyes, it's then. But the thing is? I'm 22 now, and I still do this. It's like nothing's changed at all.
Well, ok, it's not totally the same. Different boys, different subjects, different continents. Nobody's in college anymore, at least undergrad, and no one's in danger of getting bounced because Descartes' locus prop has No Mercy. And really, a lot of things are different: I'm...well, I'm something approaching happy and secure, which is a far fucking cry from the college days.
But even now. These boys. They come to me with their articles they've written for scholarly journals, and their presentations that they have to give in English, the whole thing, and they're panicked, and their big brown eyes are pleading...I'm not made of stone, how can I say no to that?
"Try this thing called 'growing a spine'," one might suggest, and one might in fact have a point there. Nonetheless, the fact remains that no matter how many times you discover that half a loaf is in many cases totally not better than none...no matter how many times and in how many ways you're forced to confront that truth....you...you just...but...they're...but...brown eyes...
Exactly.
Oh well. At least I have more clarity about it now. And they're pretty good about buying me beer afterwards, which is probably more than I'd get if I were getting actual romantic attention from them.
Plus...I like doing this shit. I read their articles and presentations and whatnot, and I whip them into shape, y'all. It's amazing to me that these guys can reach Ph.D. candidate status without figuring out that when you write something, or give a speech, or whatever, it's a good idea for it to maybe have a point. I don't know, maybe they had easy teachers all along. Or maybe they just got smart chicks to do their homework for them. It's a mystery.
"Hey! Hey, if you go out with me, I'll do your homework for you! Oh... Oh -- okay. I'll just...do your homework anyway, then. If that's ok."
Which, hey, it's college -- if there's ever a time that you're allowed to be a total mark for stupid boys with pretty eyes, it's then. But the thing is? I'm 22 now, and I still do this. It's like nothing's changed at all.
Well, ok, it's not totally the same. Different boys, different subjects, different continents. Nobody's in college anymore, at least undergrad, and no one's in danger of getting bounced because Descartes' locus prop has No Mercy. And really, a lot of things are different: I'm...well, I'm something approaching happy and secure, which is a far fucking cry from the college days.
But even now. These boys. They come to me with their articles they've written for scholarly journals, and their presentations that they have to give in English, the whole thing, and they're panicked, and their big brown eyes are pleading...I'm not made of stone, how can I say no to that?
"Try this thing called 'growing a spine'," one might suggest, and one might in fact have a point there. Nonetheless, the fact remains that no matter how many times you discover that half a loaf is in many cases totally not better than none...no matter how many times and in how many ways you're forced to confront that truth....you...you just...but...they're...but...brown eyes...
Exactly.
Oh well. At least I have more clarity about it now. And they're pretty good about buying me beer afterwards, which is probably more than I'd get if I were getting actual romantic attention from them.
Plus...I like doing this shit. I read their articles and presentations and whatnot, and I whip them into shape, y'all. It's amazing to me that these guys can reach Ph.D. candidate status without figuring out that when you write something, or give a speech, or whatever, it's a good idea for it to maybe have a point. I don't know, maybe they had easy teachers all along. Or maybe they just got smart chicks to do their homework for them. It's a mystery.
posted by ridley at 6/23/2005 10:36:00 AM
2 Comments:
Walevet, I think that that you just stumbled on every man's fantasy. I mean a girl saying "I'll do your work, but I want sexual and physical love in return". Jeez, now that I know one half of the population thinks that way, I will never have to do a day's work again ... at least above the waiste.
Dan! Put down the bottle of Charles Shaw!
--Catherine
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