Bowling, baseball, ocean measurements, they all have leagues. Bowling leagues are made up of mostly fat men who cheat on their wives and younger people who lack talent at the real sports. You know, sports where you get laid for playing. Nobody has ever scored from being a bowler. They don’t even call their points scoring. Girls don’t want to sleep with the guy with the world record for turkeys in a game. Baseball leagues are divided into the American and National Leagues. I used to think that all of the white people from America played in the American League and the National League had the non-white people. You know, the talent and all of the stolen bases. Really, when was the last time an Anglo kid from a Nebraska farm stole a base? I don’t know much about the ocean measurements known as leagues. I always thought it was stupid that we have a new system for measuring distance in water. Is it because the water is always moving and it’s hard to place a ruler down on it?

(This looks closer to dancing than it does sport. Androgynous Jones here could be ready for a leaping camel or some other dumb dance move)

The leagues that I would like to discuss more in-depth are the leagues we divide ourselves into. For dating and stuff like that. There’s that term “out of my league” which I have been told several times by girls with cerebral palsy. Were they out of my league? Maybe! They had large breasts and their faces weren’t half bad. I only asked each member of The Cerebral Seven (the nickname given to the 7 of the most popular girls in high school with cerebral palsy) to dance because I thought it would be charitable. It was their loss, right?

Often times in my life I have wondered who would be in my league. Sometimes girls who are absolutely stunning seem attainable. Other times I feel like I have to hang around a gas station bathroom hoping someone’s lonely and short a few bucks. I’ve come to a conclusion that I’m a 7 to my face. That seems to be the best I can do when asking girls what I rank on a 1-10 scale. I’ve polled girls from all over the world and that’s the best I consistently pulled. This was also 3 years ago and I’m worried I’ve lost a step. And I’m aware that a 7 to my face means I’m realistically a 5. Being a 5 isn’t that bad. It’s so completely average. Girls are always looking for an average guy, aren’t they? It has its advantages. 3’s will talk to me thinking they have a chance and 8’s may settle if they’re drunk enough.

(Not a hijackers list. This is what the average woman from each of these countries would look like if you combined all their faces. I mean really? These look like cute 17 year olds. How is that average?)

I was at a Dunkin Donuts recently. Most of the people at this particular Double-D are older slobs or women with Black Hole Sun faces. You know, faces that belong on one of The Joker’s victims in the old Jack Nicholson Batman movie. They’re mostly rich yuppies. But one girl walked in and caught my attention. I didn’t look at her at first because I could tell she was tall. I’m afraid to look at tall people because I fear they will see my dandruff and smack their chins downward into it for some reason. Probably jealousy that I never have to duck. I caught a glimpse of her out of curiosity. Wow! She was stunning. Yellow skirt, white top, and nerd glasses. Nerd-fucking-glasses! Everyone loves nerd glasses. I don’t care who you are. We all secretly have a crush on all Tina Fey imposters.

(A Black Hole Sun face. Too many yuppies look like this to me)

As I walked out with my Wake-Up Wraps I wondered what kind of guy this woman would date. She was clearly doing well in life. She was probably on her lunch break to get some coffee. She’s so busy and loves her job so much that she needs some sort of afternoon spark to help her through the rest of the day. She was fit and cute. She did notice my existence though which is always good. Not by talking to me or asking what I was ordering like I fantasized about later on. “What would you recommend I get?” she’d ask me. Then without a word we’d kiss on top of a donut. Not a Krispy Kreme donut either. They don’t have those at Dunkin. Despite what that one woman who came in once thought, Krispy Kreme is its own company. Really, what a dick. Who goes into a Dunkin and order a Krispy Kreme? Next she’ll into a White Castle and order a mattress.

It’s girls like this one that I know I have no chance with. I like to think that any person can get with anybody. It’s a little princess fantasy of mine. Like how people are inherently good and not just out for themselves. Bullshit like that. But I need to ask myself, do I really want to be with such an intimidating presence like her? I’d always be nervous that I might say the wrong thing. I might fart too loudly or not loud enough, depending upon which one she’s more into. That’s why leagues exist. We find a place where we feel comfortable in the relationship. And isn‘t that what dating is all about? Feeling comfortable naked around someone else even when you‘re fat and dry.

Comments
  1. Addie says:

    Once, a guy came over to me and asked me to dance. It was the right locale–not on the street or in a bus station or waiting for the light to change, so, he was in the right place and all. Anyway, he asked me to dance and I said:

    “Why?” (because I couldn’t figure out if he was kidding or not)

    I don’t date much (at all). Maybe this is one reason.

  2. Cafe says:

    Lol I like that last part. Maybe it isn’t so much about leagues, but like you said about your comfort zone. Well, it’s putting a positive spin on it anyway =P

    Haha you should do a poll on your blog for people to rate you. Have one for the guys and one for the girls and see if there is a difference in opinion.

    • Mooselicker says:

      Online polls are tricky. Most people would fall too deep in love with my charm and the natural affection of my smile. I’m content on being a 5. The only thing worse would be finding out I’m a 4 or a 3. Too nervous!

  3. It makes me nervous when you get lonely.

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