Greetings from Bizarro World

First a story - then I'll tell you how it relates to what happened today.

As you have read in previous posts, you know my wife and I were in Boston with her family recently for a wedding. Her side in the family, in this instance (as this doesn't mention her mother's side which will be mentioned in future posts), consists of her father, step-mother, full sister, step-sister, step-brother, and half-sister. Well, the two sisters, brother, my wife, and I stopped into a local bar on the the first night to check out the local culture. We had been on a plane for ten hours, having stopped in New Orleans, Philadelphia, landing in Providence, then driving from Providence to Boston. We were all tired and I was looking forward to a deep sleep.

We went to a place near our hotel and grabbed a table near a tv showing the Sox game. After about thirty minutes or so, Melissa's brother, Chris, and I decided to check out what was on the back porch. Now, to sum up Chris the Stud really quick, he has two great interests in his life - beer and women. He got excited that there were two girls outside talking to each other and taking notice of us as we walked out. As Chris and I were talking, one of the girls points at me and says, "Hey, what's that logo thingy on your shirt?"

[Aside - Most of the shirts that I wear are from Brooks Brothers, whose logo, if you're not familiar, is a Golden Fleece from Jason and the Argonauts lore. It is their signature and is recognized by preppy geeks everywhere. Additionally, I wear my polo shirts, which I was wearing that night, with the top button closed. It's something I've done since Junior High and feel comfortable doing. I'm a preppy geek, nice to meet you.]

Back to the story - this girl (which was absolutely nothing to write home about, in fact rather scary) kept trying to spark a conversation with me. She finally noticed my wedding ring, which I was neither flaunting nor hiding. "So, Mister Brooks Brothers, where is your wife tonight?", Scary Girl asked, who, thank heavens, came out with her two sisters soon thereafter. I introduced my wife and half-expected Scary Girl to go about her business. She did, to some extent, but kept talking to my wife and I, further inquiring about our own intimate relations. Quite uncomfortable.

Well, we came back to the table and the joke became that this girl was hitting on me, not Chris the Stud. Now, I can't even remember that last time a girl hit on me, not to mention in front of my wife . For the rest of the trip, the easiest way to get a laugh was to jokingly button your shirt all the way to the top and say that was the secret to getting the ladies.

Point of the story - Chris will always refer to Boston as Bizarro World, as it is the place where I have no problems picking up chicks. To expand, it is the place where I can let my other personality come out- the one where I talk to strangers, am quite charming and witty.

Back to Earth.

Today, I mustered up the courage to post a comment on Poigirls's blog (http://poigirl.blogspot.com/). Forty-nine percent of me was excited to connect with somebody who shared a common, even if somewhat parallel, history. I felt obligated to tell her that her website was clever, witty, and made me laugh and think about my own existence and insecurities on this earth. Fifty-one percent of me wanted to stay hidden in the shadows, afraid that my comment would elicit some response like - yeah, I remember you. You were a narrow-minded idiot who had no interest in people outside your stratosphere and I want nothing to do with you today. Because, to tell the truth, she probably wouldn't have been that far off.

Anyway, I posted my comment on Shannon's blog and expected a response at some point, but not today. Well, her response made my day (nay, week) using the words "brilliant" and "intelligent". I pulled a rotator cuff patting myself on the back, by the way.

I wouldn't use those words to describe myself, but I won't automatically deny them. If anything, I use my intelligence to mask how un-intelligent I really am. To quote my hero Sam Seaborn - "I am dumb. Most of the time, I'm just playing smart."

You see, back in high school, I was afraid to show that I had brief streams of brilliance. Nobody cared if you could remember the founding date of Jamestown; it only mattered how many points you scored at the last game. My athleticism came more naturally than my intellect so I focused on that. It wasn't until college that I transposed the equation. I discovered that, egads, I am a geek. I have to tell myself to come out of my shell, let my voice be heard, and let that voice be what is going on inside my head. Unless you're in a Boston bar with Scary Girl.

So to Poigirl and all others, this won't be the first time to self-regret not being the person that I am now fifteen years ago.