Why is it that you're so much cooler if you do the thing you do in rural Malawi than if you do the thing you do in central London? Maybe it's the nature of the thing you do that makes the difference...
It's the cavewoman survival instinct that tells me it's so sexy that he can drive a really beat truck on dirt roads full of children, goats, holes, monkeys, trees in the pouring rain, with the wiendshield wiper breaking and the headlights that have just turned off. And that he keeps his cool when he accidentally separates the mom from the baby elephants, causing the huge mom to get slightly pissed off and fake charge the car (and the 4 women from Ohio to almost pass out right there).
Do I detect a dangerous pattern here, in this fascination with people in different continents?
And when you want them to fall off the face of the Earth they insist in staying firmly put on it, just to give you a bit of a resilience test.
So you're in London for 5 full days between a trip to Latin America and one to Africa? Great, let's see each other TWICE, just to make sure you are really REALLY over this. That's what you get for becoming friends with his friends. I'm SO over it. TOTALLY.
He's just another Cool Kid In London, just another one of the sharks I'm swimming with.
I like my sharks though, I like them a lot.
I particularly like them when they show up unrequested and (sort of) unannounced to drink Flor de Caña with me, straight from the airport (by Heathrow Express of course - that's basically the definition of Cool). I like them when they bring me the New Experience of Awkward, together with nice red wine and the Bosnian version of Plasmon (Italian biscuits for babies). I like them when they keep up with my drinking Flor de Caña Cuba Libres. I particularly like them when they drink enough Flor de Caña that the definition of Cool changes entirely and becomes setting up a karaoke of bad Italian 90s pop and turn it into a "coming out" party.
Apparently life does, sometimes, bring you exactly what you need. It especially happens when you decide what life brought you is what you needed. It's not prince charming and it's not the novel I'd have written for my life, but it would make a good Nicaraguan novela.
January: I'm too busy hating my job to keep track of who holds on to the flat face of the Earth and who falls off.
Fabruary: I hate my job more, but.. like a Ray Of Light my Obsession for the next months appears in my living room (unrequested and unannounced). His best quality is that, due to the fact that he physically disappears to a different continent 4 full hours after our encounter, he never ever says or does anything wrong. Initially he even seems capable of using technlogy to give signs of life.
March: He loses his IT skills and falls off the face of the Earth.
April: I still think He's The Best Thing I've Ever Seen. By not giving me any sign of life, he does a wonderful job at not proving me wrong.
May: I get The Job. Hot & boring D for Distraction comes along. And falls off the flat face of the Earth within a week. Not interesting even in the falling style.
June & July: Best summer in the history of England, WEEKS go by with no sign of rain! I try to implement a highly scientific risk diversification strategy, which results in various strickingly ideantical falls off the face of the Earth.
August: The supposed Best Thing I've Ever Seen makes his reappearence on the face of the Earth and in the City. He is schizofrenically interested/uninterested. Schizofrenia, as far as I can recall, was never on my List.
September: Plan D for Distraction fails entirely because Distraction is not Dumb, and notices the hearts popping out of my eyes when in the presence of The supposed Best Thing I've Ever Seen. International trip #1 leads to another disaster in diversification not worth describing in any detail.
October: I get back to London in the psychophisical condition of a cleaning cloth. The supposed Best Thing I've Ever Seen clarifies any doubts I may still have had by immediately stopping his schizofrenia and staying firmly put off the flat face of the Earth.*
International trip #2 brings me back to my Home by Chance (I also have my Home by Birth & Home by Choice) where I get a temporary cure for my detached cynism - total adoration. Latinos love to sweetalk. I'm not cured. But I decided I needed what Life gave me, and I took it without complaining (too much).
*It is particularly interesting to observe the behaviours of the fallers off the flat face of the Earth when you accidentally bump into them. They will ask you: "why don't you just stay put?" when you tell of your 7 upcoming intercontinental work related trips. 'Cos you know, if you'd 'stay put' they would totally stay fallen off! And you know you'd want to be there for the experience.
It's the cavewoman survival instinct that tells me it's so sexy that he can drive a really beat truck on dirt roads full of children, goats, holes, monkeys, trees in the pouring rain, with the wiendshield wiper breaking and the headlights that have just turned off. And that he keeps his cool when he accidentally separates the mom from the baby elephants, causing the huge mom to get slightly pissed off and fake charge the car (and the 4 women from Ohio to almost pass out right there).
