What do you do with a girl who’s only in town for a week? That is the question I have been asking myself over and over again. Do you take her out to a dinner and a movie, going through all the motions? Do you be straight up with her and tell her you’re only in it for the no-strings sex? Do you follow her to her hometown? Although there are several ways to go about it, only one will get you the best results.

I met this gorgeous blonde girl yesterday who’s only in town for a week while she visits family and goes to a wedding. She’s got long, blonde hair, a perfect smile, and is very outgoing and loves to laugh. I like that in a girl. It exudes confidence. It tells me she’s not afraid of who she is, and tries not to be too serious with life.

She was sitting with one of her cousins at a local coffee shop I like to frequent, and she caught my eye the moment I set foot inside the establishment. She was a shining angel, radiating rays of sunshine everywhere. She was wearing a fitted white top, and it accented all her right curves.

I got my coffee and strategically sat within her line of sight. I pulled out the paper and turned on my iPod and started doing my thing, not giving her a second glance. I caught her looking a couple of times, and the second time I held her gaze for a second, then flashed her a big-ass smile. She smiled back, embarrassed that she was caught staring.

Immediately, I stand up and make my way over there, all smiles. Her cousin doesn’t seem to approve of me just yet. Most people don’t. I just need a little time, and an in. I make a crack about how I saw bright rays of light emanating from within the windows of the coffee shop, and I had to see whether there was an angel trapped inside or just a flashlight rescue party in full swing.

Now normally, I don’t give girls compliments. Compliments are sleazy in their own right, and it sends the wrong message, especially when you first meet someone. Same with presents; they’re just ticking time bombs, and they’ll always end up blowing up in your face. Someday I’ll go into more detail about this, but for now, trust me: compliments and presents – while nice and thoughtful, even if they’re completely, totally sincere – always lead to problems because they send the wrong message.

I strike up a conversation (with both of them, lest I should falter and forget to include her own cousin in the colloquy), and pretty soon I have them both laughing about some of my mishaps at some weddings I’ve been to (I once danced with an older lady who later turned out to be the bride’s mother, and I had to hear shit from my crew for the following two weeks).

Her body language is saying it all. Her legs are uncrossed now, her stance is open (no crossed arms) and pointed directly at me, she’s rubbing her knee softly and playing with her hair, and she’s leaning forward, all ears. And she’s got both rows of her beautiful teeth smiling right at me. This girl is amazing. Everything is going well, that is, until she tells me she’s only in town till the weekend, at which time she’ll say goodbye to her family and go back to Georgia.

I start panicking, but then it slowly dawns on me, this could be a beautiful thing. And then I start asking myself, what do you do with a girl who’s only in town for a week? I run all the options through my head while I listen to her tell a story about her hellish flight here. I could ask her to go on a typical blue-collar dinner-and-a-movie and hope something develops. I could go to the wedding (crash the wedding?) with her and show her a good time. I could show her around town for a day. The possibilities are endless. But it the bomb’s a-tickin’. Five more days and she’s gone. There really is only one way to go about it. I take a deep breath, take a good, long look at her face, and decide right then and there: it’s worth it.

I will fall in love with this girl for 5 days.

We will be inseparable for the next few days, every moment spent in each other’s arms. There is no greater sorrow than losing someone special, which only makes the joy of being together even sweeter. With that deadline approaching, she will move faster along the relationship than in the timeframe she normally operates under. Come Goodbye Day, we will have gone on dates, fallen in love, talked about our future together, made sweet, sweet lovin’, and experienced the sorrow of breaking up.

I got her number yesterday, promising her (to her cousin’s slight dismay) I will show her the world (but mainly just Boise). And now it’s today, the clock is ticking, and time’s a-wastin’. Cross your fingers, people.

Angels need lovin’, too.

Today’s Daily Challenge: Approach a complete stranger with a foreign accent. No, it doesn’t have to be a certain one, only the one you’re most comfortable with. No Kentucky Inbred Drawls, either (nice try, you fucks). Try a Mexican accent, or a French accent, or even a Cockney accent (if you’ve watched enough Guy Ritchie movies). Do it at the grocery store, or the convenience store, or wherever you’re at tonight. See how people treat you differently. How they look at you funny, and how they get that air of superiority just because you happen to sound different. Tell them where you’re from. Look at their eyes and begin to see the stereotype matching forming in their brains.

Then assume regular accent and call them out on it. Make them feel like shit for succumbing to tired ethnic clichés. Tell them not to judge people based soley on the sound of their voice or the color of their skin, and make them feel like a pile of shit by the time you’re done. Congratulations! You’ve just broken an ethnic stereotype! One down, 600 million to go!

By Robert Shagwell | Jul 27, 2005 | Permalink |