Friday Night Story

Must Like Classical

I hate personals. I do. Distilling everything you are and want into a few well-phrased verses, poetic enough to entice, but concise enough that you won’t kill their interest like Robert Frost.

But I’ve started to recognize that girls vary depending on their music. Don’t roll your eyes, I know how weird that sounds. You know how many blind dates I’ve gone on- more than enough to call it a representative sample (even if my methods aren’t what you’d call scientifically sound- um, no pun intended).

But maybe you can help me out, dude. I learned from Britney that I can’t stand pop girls; I don’t care if a woman’s only talent is kicking my ass at Guitar Hero, so long as she’s at least that creative, but Britney couldn’t even understand the appeal. Also, no Britneys- I mean, I hate to profile, but seriously, no Britney who spells her name that way (unless maybe she goes by Brit, or actually was a Brit- I am way too into accents).

And no more dancers. Techno is music composed by a chimp that got bored one sheet in, so they just repeat the thing until you’re nauseous; it gives me a migraine just thinking about all that pointless bass. And I learned my lesson with Jessica, man. She was the fun kind of freak on the dance floor, but I found out that E plus rough sex is not for me. Not even a little. Only time I’ve every cried after sex- or during (you know, that I’ll admit to).

I feel like a jerk for this, but no country/western, either. Kathy was great, I mean, really. It was kind of nice being around a woman who wasn’t completely insecure (only slightly), and could kind of get along on her own- you know, kind of (I know, says Mr. Codependent). But with her it was the twang, man; she was from Modesto, not Mississippi, and you know, I usually completely fall over for an accent, however bad, but come on- if you’re not a cowgirl you don’t have to talk like one. And of course she insisted I wear tight jeans and buy a pickup truck. Yeah. So no.

And it kind of saddens me, but no more Allisas. You may not remember her (or I might never have told you about her). I met her in one of my classes. Beautiful. Completely classy. One of those women you hit on because they seem so totally out of your league yet so awesome you’ve both got nothing to lose and couldn’t help yourself even if you did. She was all about jazz. And I can’t fault her for it. She had amazing taste. I don’t even like jazz, normally, but she had a way of explaining it, of setting the mood and getting the flavors of the room and conversation and food to all mix properly that I kind of dug it. But there was the rub. I was always in her audience; and it was an intimate gig, and about as close as artistic bliss can get, but I was never enough of her equal, in my own head as much (if not more than) hers.

I guess it’s all got me thinking about Corrin again. I mean, obviously, Corrin was not “the one” (nor do I think Jet Li would be), but she was great. She was close. And she was mind-numbingly into classical music. She actually drug me into her music theory, appreciation and history classes (which might not have made me better at what I do, but I’m pretty sure made me a better person). And I’m not having one of those “my ex was so great” moments, and I deleted her from my speed dial a couple years ago, but I’m saying, someone like that is what I’m after. Someone with that kind of temperament- and that kind of music taste.

Must like classical.

Simple, right? To the point. But I don’t know. It seems like it’s missing something. Hmm…

Must like classical. Or James Brown.

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