Star Wars Boy: A few less parts adolescence, please
I met Star Wars Boy at Kramer’s one Friday night for our first date. We browsed through the titles, using them as jumping-off points for various conversations. (Note: Don’t end up stuck in the Self-Help/Sex Advice section of a bookstore on a first date unless you’re really adept at making cunning little jokes and you never get embarrassed.) At one point, he showed me a how-to book on blogging, and, without thinking who I was talking to, I jokingly said I needed it. He asked if I had a blog, I confirmed, and the conversation was dropped before the question of content arose (thank the gods… I lack the skills necessary for tweaking the truth for my advantage, and revealing the content of this little site probably wouldn’t thrill most of my dates). I have a sneaking suspicion he might’ve guessed about the subject matter though. He looked at me at one point later in the night and said, “Do not write about me.” (Sorry, SWB.)
Anyhow, we ended up grabbing a coffee and eventually going back to his place to partake and watch some Mr. Show and Wonder Showzen. The boy has an insane collection of DVDs and excellent taste in movies and shows, I must say. I ended up hanging out pretty late and crashing with a friend in the neighborhood.
Since then, we’ve had three dates. The short-and-sweet versions:
Date 2: I met him in
Date 3: I went to his apartment. We partook then went to see Stranger than Fiction. Despite being in
Date 4: I met him at his place after work (this, friends, is getting old. It’s at least an hour on the Metro to his place. I would drive if parking near his house were in any way reasonable, but it is no such thing). We went to a few of the galleries for First Friday.
When we finished with our pseudo-sophisticated endeavor, we found ourselves asking ‘what now?’ We agreed that neither of us was particularly hungry at the moment but that we’d want dinner later. I said we could hang at his place for a while on the condition that we go out to dinner a bit later. That never happened. I can’t say it was totally his fault, we just got involved in conversation and it got too late to go anywhere. But, still, this not gracing a restaurant after four dates seems strange to me. Suddenly I’ve got all sorts of questions. Is he ashamed to be seen in public with me? Is he trying to hide the fact that he’s been blacklisted from every restaurant in Northwest? Is there a girlfriend I don’t know about? Does he have a phobia of restaurant booths? Is he repulsed by my eating habits so much that he's only willing to eat with me if he doens't have to look at me while doing it? Does the site of those little paper napkin rings trigger psychotic episodes linked to a mysterious and terrible childhood trauma? Why in the hell won’t this guy take me to a freakin’ restaurant?
Anyway, four dates into it, I feel it’s time to make a pro/con list about Star Wars Boy, so here it is.
| Yay! | Boo! |
| - Incredibly intelligent and would totally kick ass on a trivia team… - Nerdy - Excellent taste in movies and T.V. shows - Very liberal - - Partakes (and has a source. And a vaporizer. That’s nice.) - Reads - He read to me (It was really sweet) - Tells me stories on demand - Thinks for himself - … and thinks a lot like me! | - … Which sometimes makes me feel stupid in comparison. - Nerdy - Lies to his parents. (I think lying is cowardly. He’s an adult; he should man up. I told him as much.) - Tongue-thruster - Tried to get me to play video games. (I really don’t care if he plays. But trying to get me to? C’mon…) - Has an actual Star Wars blanket on his bed. (I couldn’t possibly make this stuff up.) - I have a feeling he’d put up with me telling him what to do if we were together. I don’t want to sign up to mother someone. - Prefers cold weather to hot and doesn’t like the beach or boating |
Okay, I suppose before I move along, you’ll want to know about the Star Wars blanket. First, I must say SWB’s apartment looks like some fresh-out-of-the-dorm college sophomores live there. There’s nothing on the walls. There’s no table for which to eat upon. There are two televisions in the living room, one for gaming and the other for watching. (“This way we can watch and play football at the same time!” Great. That’s my absolute dream-come-true.)
And then there’s his bedroom. The rest of the house I could probably forgive, as it’s a shared space, and it isn’t absolutely filthy or trashy. The apartment itself is nice, just undecorated. But the bedroom… oh, the bedroom. First off, it’s tiny. Two huge, overflowing bookshelves (again, yay!), his bed, and a large computer desk take up most of the room. The rest is hidden under mounds of clothes and things. I’ve lived in tiny rooms before. You find ways to make things disappear before you invite a potential romantic interest over. Or at least I did. He doesn’t have a dresser, but a disintegrating plastic storage bin that’s falling apart and spewing forth clothes from every imaginable angle.
But the big deal, of course, is that the boy actually has a Star Wars blanket on his bed. This isn’t a throw or a pillow or something. It’s his comforter. I was pretty much horrified by it the first time I saw it, but I didn’t say anything immediately. I decided later that it was forgivable if there was an insanely good reason for him having it. The next time I went over, I asked as soon as we went to his room if there was a story behind it. He said yes and launched into a long explanatory tale. I’ll spare you the details, but suffice it to say there’s really no story behind it. Not one that can explain a 25-year-old having a Star Wars blanket on his bed, anyway.
Before the last time I came over, SWB had hinted at the possibility of me spending the night. I think he would’ve offered as much if it had come to that, but I was called to assist a friend in need in the early morning hours. I have to say, the thought of sleeping under that blanket is less than appealing for me. And you can forget doing the deed in that bed. I really just don’t see it happening.
Considering all the ranting I’ve just done about the Star Wars blanket, you’d think I wanted to mold SWB into the guy I want him to be (or just make him change his bedding), which brings up the final detraction of note. I do not, in fact, want to wake up one day and realize I’m trying to change and/or controlling the person I’m dating. I had to list as a con that I think Star Wars Boy might be accepting of a girlfriend who took the mothering role. I can see myself quickly becoming the nagging girlfriend in such a situation. The visions in my head aren’t pretty.
There’s a possibility he’s not someone who’d let his girl run all over him, but I think he’d kind of be okay with it. I’ll give you a couple examples of what I mean. When I smoke, I try not to just throw the butts down on the ground. I typically hold on to them until I can dispose properly. I also take my trash out of movie theatres and throw it away. On date two, Star Wars Boy told me I was much more conscientious about litter than he. On date three, he asked if I wanted him to stop throwing his butts down outside. I told him he could do whatever he wanted, that I’m not his mother and won’t be instructing him in such ways.
But when I thought about it later, I realized I’d already played the part of the mothering, nagging girlfriend at least once, regarding some minute matter of décor in his apartment. What was probably just as horrifying as my display of such unappealing behavior is that he accepted my instruction with no qualms or questioning whatsoever. Not even so much as a raised eyebrow.
If I ever did manage to get past the whole comforter conundrum and found myself in a more serious relationship with Star Wars Boy, I have a feeling I’d be dictating his every move in no time. From what I’ve seen so far, I think he’d put up with it without much fuss. The scenario is not a thought I relish.
Consultations with my best advice-giving friends after date three yielded the following pieces of wisdom (delivered to you in three distinct nutshells):
1. Cut him some slack: He sounds like, well, a normal boy, Belle. He seems to have no major deal-breaking issues… which is, of course, the ultimate deal-breaker for you. Do something different; give him a chance.
2. Cut him: You have every right to be selective. You don’t want to have to mother anyone. Tell him you’d nag him to death and you’d end up hating one another. Honesty is always the best policy.
3. Just don’t mislead him: There’s no harm in dating him. You enjoy his company, and he obviously enjoys yours. Just don’t let him think that you’re getting into a serious relationship. Aren’t most guys looking for some fun without all the serious bits anyway? If you aren’t serious, you won’t have to nag him all the time.
So… things with Star Wars Boy stand where they stand, I suppose. I’m indecisive, but I will continue to accept when he asks me out and take the situation for what it is. I have a feeling he could want to head down a more serious path relatively quickly if we continue to see one another. That scares me, but doesn’t it always?
In the mean time, does anyone have any advice about tactfully informing him that his Star Wars blanket kills my libido, or should I just keep things from progressing to the point at which it will actually matter?
3 comments:
What embarrassing piece of tat do you have from when you were younger? Ain't no thang to have a Star Wars blanket. Not like it's action figures still in their boxes on display. It's at least useful.
I wouldn't be too concerned with his apparent willingness to be mothered. Not yet anyway. Plenty of men are very willing to please at the beginning of a relationship, during the whole 'getting to know you' phase, but become more assertive as the relationship takes root. Of course, he could be the type who is susceptible to mothering. But not necessarily.
An amendment to my last comment (sunday, 12/3) - its not about susceptibility to mothering - its more about mirroring behavior, i think. when we first try to impress someone, we tend to adopt or try to adopt their patterns of action to make ourselves more appealing. so, if he notices you do x, he will make an effort to do x in order to forge some kind of bond.
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