Categories > Original > Humor
“You should smile more. Maybe guys wouldn’t be running the opposite direction when you look at them. You’re famous for your glare, you know.”
“Oh do shut up. I’ve no reason to smile at them when they look at me like a piece of meat.”
“They just think you’re delicious. Be thankful they even spare you a glance. Hmph.”
“For the last time, I am not food. And don’t tell me you’re jealous! The reason they don’t look at you is because you’re of the same gender. If you weren’t oblivious of the opposite sex, you’d see how girls trip over their own feet when you pass by. Never mind that you dress in pink and have better fashion taste than them. You’re gorgeous and you know it, you blind bastard.”
“Why thank you. You’re the only person I know who could compliment and insult me in one sentence. That’s an amazing skill! You should be proud. But wait, what I don’t understand is why you don’t bask in the glory that your beauty brings. Don’t you want to date? You’re really not ugly.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. We discussed this a million times before. I don’t do dates. They’re so tedious. I mean, what’s the point? A guy takes a girl out for dinner, a movie, some coffee, and then they kiss. And then after a few more of those dates, they become an item. And then what? They break up. And then they bitch and moan for a few weeks. Well, fine. The girls bitch and moan. Afterwards, they say they’re over it and move on to their next victim. It’s a vicious cycle. A never ending game with no rules, and frankly, I don’t want to play.”
“Bravo. Brilliant speech, Ms. Cynical Man-hater. But personally, I think you’re just scared.”
“Moi? Scared? Of what, pray tell? Those lewd leering losers?”
“Of caring. Of actually feeling something besides hatred for the male species. Except me, of course. You love me. By the way, nice alliteration there.”
“Thanks. What? I am so not scared of romance! I just think it’s nonexistent, so why hope?”
“Ah, so you do want to fall in love. I see. You’re in denial, dear.”
“In denial that what?”
“That love might exist. You are so a hopeless romantic! I knew it! You’re so tough, but you’re marshmallow inside!”
“Psh. True love honestly does not exist. I’ve seen “true love” and I’ve seen it all fall into pieces. It’s either the girl gets bored, tired, or pregnant with another guy’s baby, or the guy gets bored, tired, or gets another girl pregnant.”
“You’re so cynical. Why don’t you give it a chance? Guys throw themselves at your feet. Well, before you give them that death glare of yours, obviously. But still, you could have any guy you want! Just take your pick and he’s yours.”
“That’s exactly why I don’t date. They give in to my looks so easily. A pout here, a little cleavage there, and that’s it. They’re putty in my hands. It’s either they’re too easy, or they’re too arrogant that they think I can be putty. That’s why movie stars and boys in fiction novels are the best kinds. Unreachable guys, the kind that are for looking only. That way, there are no illusions. They don’t feed you lines and they don’t try to get to know you.”
“There you go. That’s the real problem here. You don’t want people to know you. You never let people in. It’s really no wonder that I’m your only friend. Sometimes I even doubt where I stand with you.”
“Aw you know I love you. You’re the only guy I love.”
“Yeah, because I won’t jump you.”
“True.”
“Well maybe if you let someone else in, you’d have more friends. Maybe a boyfriend.”
“When you let someone in, you give them a chance to hurt you. Most of the time, they do. Why take that risk?”
“Because there’s a chance that they won’t.”
“I don’t want to hand them a knife and trust them not to use it against me.”
“You’re not handing them a knife, honey. Just your heart.”
“They might crush it to itty bitty pieces.”
“They might cherish it and give them theirs in exchange.”
“God, stop with the cheesefest. I’ve enough of this. Love’s overrated.”
“So is cynicism.”
“Go to hell.”
“Oh do shut up. I’ve no reason to smile at them when they look at me like a piece of meat.”
“They just think you’re delicious. Be thankful they even spare you a glance. Hmph.”
“For the last time, I am not food. And don’t tell me you’re jealous! The reason they don’t look at you is because you’re of the same gender. If you weren’t oblivious of the opposite sex, you’d see how girls trip over their own feet when you pass by. Never mind that you dress in pink and have better fashion taste than them. You’re gorgeous and you know it, you blind bastard.”
“Why thank you. You’re the only person I know who could compliment and insult me in one sentence. That’s an amazing skill! You should be proud. But wait, what I don’t understand is why you don’t bask in the glory that your beauty brings. Don’t you want to date? You’re really not ugly.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. We discussed this a million times before. I don’t do dates. They’re so tedious. I mean, what’s the point? A guy takes a girl out for dinner, a movie, some coffee, and then they kiss. And then after a few more of those dates, they become an item. And then what? They break up. And then they bitch and moan for a few weeks. Well, fine. The girls bitch and moan. Afterwards, they say they’re over it and move on to their next victim. It’s a vicious cycle. A never ending game with no rules, and frankly, I don’t want to play.”
“Bravo. Brilliant speech, Ms. Cynical Man-hater. But personally, I think you’re just scared.”
“Moi? Scared? Of what, pray tell? Those lewd leering losers?”
“Of caring. Of actually feeling something besides hatred for the male species. Except me, of course. You love me. By the way, nice alliteration there.”
“Thanks. What? I am so not scared of romance! I just think it’s nonexistent, so why hope?”
“Ah, so you do want to fall in love. I see. You’re in denial, dear.”
“In denial that what?”
“That love might exist. You are so a hopeless romantic! I knew it! You’re so tough, but you’re marshmallow inside!”
“Psh. True love honestly does not exist. I’ve seen “true love” and I’ve seen it all fall into pieces. It’s either the girl gets bored, tired, or pregnant with another guy’s baby, or the guy gets bored, tired, or gets another girl pregnant.”
“You’re so cynical. Why don’t you give it a chance? Guys throw themselves at your feet. Well, before you give them that death glare of yours, obviously. But still, you could have any guy you want! Just take your pick and he’s yours.”
“That’s exactly why I don’t date. They give in to my looks so easily. A pout here, a little cleavage there, and that’s it. They’re putty in my hands. It’s either they’re too easy, or they’re too arrogant that they think I can be putty. That’s why movie stars and boys in fiction novels are the best kinds. Unreachable guys, the kind that are for looking only. That way, there are no illusions. They don’t feed you lines and they don’t try to get to know you.”
“There you go. That’s the real problem here. You don’t want people to know you. You never let people in. It’s really no wonder that I’m your only friend. Sometimes I even doubt where I stand with you.”
“Aw you know I love you. You’re the only guy I love.”
“Yeah, because I won’t jump you.”
“True.”
“Well maybe if you let someone else in, you’d have more friends. Maybe a boyfriend.”
“When you let someone in, you give them a chance to hurt you. Most of the time, they do. Why take that risk?”
“Because there’s a chance that they won’t.”
“I don’t want to hand them a knife and trust them not to use it against me.”
“You’re not handing them a knife, honey. Just your heart.”
“They might crush it to itty bitty pieces.”
“They might cherish it and give them theirs in exchange.”
“God, stop with the cheesefest. I’ve enough of this. Love’s overrated.”
“So is cynicism.”
“Go to hell.”
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