Tuesday, 17 August 2010
Since the dawn of humanity, one question has lingered about in realms of sex and dating. Which is better, beauty or brains? Now I'm sure some of you out there in the cheap seats just hollered "its nice to have both." Well it would also be nice if I could fellate myself while playing Call Of Duty, but most of the time it's just not in the cards. So I'm going to leave you with the following story and ask: which one takes precedence, brains or beauty?
It was around my sophomore year of college or so when I was a manager for a certain "popular" retail company and naturally, seeing one of the girls who worked there. And by seeing I mean intoxication, followed by insertion, followed by more intoxication; but on the regular. It was new and exciting so I had no qualms at the time. Mostly due to the fact that this girl, who we'll call Europea (for reasons which I will later explain) was a solid 9 out of 10, on a bad day. She was petite with tanned skin and natural blond hair. The prototypical Florida beach bunny. Coincidentally my extra-curriculars with her also made me the center of attention and envy of everyone else. I was at peace.
A couple of weeks into it, however, you start to get to the point where you have to actually engage in some kind of rational dialogue with each other. You know, during down time and water breaks and such. It was at this point that I started to notice things about her that I hadn't before. It's amazing how much more you can actually see when your not inside of someone. Things like vocabulary, hobbies, background, and general views on life. It wasn't too promising and a bit of a slow process to say the least, but we were screwing a lot more then we were talking. It was the kind of ratio that I imagine wild chimps would hold, so I chalked it up to that. Onward we go.
It was during this period that I decided it was time for her to meet my friends. Now this is the first of about three very important steps/tests before you can consider settling down with a girl, and with my friends, it's more like a gauntlet. So we all met a bar by campus and started to get into it. Drinks, mood lightening jokes, formal banter, the whole nine yards. It was out of that said banter that one of my buddies asked, "So what nationality are you?" I immediately thought, "Oh here we go," but she responded, "Polish," without hesitation and the conversation continued. I thought to myself that Polish made sense, but no flags were raised yet.
A timeless debate.
The next question, my friends, is where you could say things went south, and not in the fun way. My other friend then followed up with, "So were you born here or what?" Her response (which to this day I will never forget nor live down) was "No, I was born in Europea. I moved from Europea when I was little." The crowd erupted in laughter, with she and I as the subjects, and a new nickname was forever donned. Like Ron Burgundy, I immediately regretted my decision.
The rest of the night went in the same fashion and was spent with me trying to avoid any questions that could give those jackals (and my frontal lobe) more material. It started to get a bit late, so I gathered her and our belongings and exited as fast as possible. The entire car ride home was spent trying to search and Google for any way possible to make Europea make sense, but to no avail. We got home and naturally she wanted to stay at my place. I was completely not in the right frame of mind or mood, but my manhood quickly reminded me that I was being selfish, and needed to do this for him. This is how most of the relationship would go. Conscience vs. cock.
So naturally I obliged and put logic aside to engage in what was one of the hottest sessions on record, until...
We were barreling down the home stretch so I threw her on her back and shot my evil in a fashion that would make a porn star blush. I was happy again, but little did I know that happiness would be short lived. Two minutes and thirty seconds to be exact. At that point, she tried to throw her arms around my neck while screaming out, "Ohhh I want you to lay in it!"
Game over. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, and go straight to jail. I am by no means a stellar person. I have looked past a lot and done some dirty things in my day in the name of coitus, but this was where I drew the line. No amount of pretty could ever undo the damage that was done. Now these are just a couple of examples of her complete and utter stupidity, and I do have friends that said they would have laid in it. I also have an equal amount that have said they could never have stayed and connected with a girl that dumb, no matter how hot she was.
So I ask, brains or beauty? Or do you hope for a miracle and hold out for both?