Spacefem (spacefem) wrote,

the good men

Okay, so last night I'm in line for the ATM munching a candy bar when I notice that the guy in front of me is looking pretty good. Shirt, tie, wool slacks, and get this: wingtip shoes. Oh my. Then he gets up to get cash out and takes out $150. I know I shouldn't look, but I was suddenly very turned on because let's face it, if I get the courage to take out $40 it must be payday. Otherwise I'm afraid to blow my whole account away in one ATM trip.

I started getting this fantasy of going home with him (in my mind he drives a lexus now, of course) and spending like three days discussing mutual funds until he's like, "Spacefem, you're incredible! You're amazing! I'd do anything for you!" and I'd be like, "If you think I'm cool, you've got to meet my boyfriend!" And I'd call up Dave and be like, "Honey, guess what? I got us a man! Yes! No, you'll love him, he's everything we've ever wanted in a man, come down right away, he's taking us out to dinner tonight. And tomorrow night. And in between he buys ice cream." And Dave would come down and our life together would be perfect, we'd move into a big house and I'd encourage Man to embrace his inner workaholic nature and Dave would just hang out and play with the pets and I'd keep doing my thing, only it'd be an easier thing because I'd know that Dave was happy and not worried about petty worldly things. I'd come home and he'd have dinner made, I'd tell him all about my hard day at the factory and he'd tell me how he fixed another old lady's computer and won a community service award for doing so many smart things in his ample spare time. Flowers would bloom year-round and squirrels and birds would follow us everywhere. And Man would hang out sometimes on the weekend and we'd all have a beer together and laugh about how easy life really is.

My dave. I love him. He told me this week he was thinking of writing a nanowrimo novel and I had to laugh and then tell him honestly how I felt without crushing his dream of being, um, whatever he's trying to be with this. I explained that novelists have usually written a lot before tackling something like this. They read intellectual literature that's not like Hot Rod. They took lots of writing classes in college. I don't know if he's still thinking about it or not, if he is I won't publicly say I doubt him. I also won't publicly say that I won't die by being struck by a meteor this month, you never know.

It's a shame more people can't know him like I do. He's different. In college it was kind of a cult thing, it's hard to describe, he was like Kramar only without ever meaning to be like that and definately without ever understanding why people felt that way about him. He's got that geek tragedy aura going, but underneath it all a lot more confidence than anyone I know like that. When you spend time with him you get the strong feeling that he's going to win someday, again, without meaning to or understanding why. I told him once that I thought we could take over the world. He didn't see why I'd want to do that in the first place, and if I did, why I thought he'd be a good companion. He wouldn't just be good though, he'd be the only option, the only member of a list that you think someone would have to fight to the top of. That's Dave.

So I keep running my online advice column and answering relationship questions and think about how Dave does everything. I tell the questioners to stay relaxed when their girlfriends go off the deep end. To do things logically, and do their best. All relationships are confusing, but you can work to understand each other and sometimes come out okay. It helps if you can talk for hours about everything. And take care of each other. Really, sometimes I think my emotional relationship with Dave hasn't changed a whole lot since we upgraded from really-good-friend status. I don't feel like we were supposed to add anything, it just sounds funny to consider. Even when he was just my best friend, I still wanted to cart him away, take care of him, make sure he didn't have anything to worry about. And he still wanted to understand me all the time, work on making sure I liked him. Maybe we should say we've been together for three years instead of one.
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