3. bland vs. annoying
Posted March 26, 2014on:
If you have to choose between those 2 adjectives as the kind of first impression people have of you, which one would it be?
The weekend Sharon visited and brought up some cakes, that was the weekend I debuted as co-coordinator. An organization once ran by a single coordinator somehow fragmented into a job that was split 5 ways that year. I was one of the 5. There was a good looking guy in our group of coordinators that I wanted to impress, so I did choose my outfit with care that day. If I wasn’t trying to “impress” any guy, there would probably have been only 4 co-coordinators. I only shoot up into positions of leadership when I’m trying to get close to a leader.
Eight years later, the other guy in my group of co-coordinators, the one I wasn’t trying to impress, showed up at my 2nd wedding (marrying the same husband), and I realized that I was following the wrong guy in my youth if physical hotness was what I seek.
We ran the group’s first general meeting one late August afternoon in a nondescript classroom at Cal with 12 volunteers from the previous semester, and a few new faces in the back. I thought the coordinators did a pretty good job introducing ourselves and giving an overview of our group’s mission as well as the actual kind of work we would do. I think the meeting lasted about 40 minutes at most. Towards the end, when it was open for questions from the volunteers, a bland nondescript kid wearing a green baseball cap raised his hand in the back and asked if one can still volunteer if one isn’t a Cal student. Then a few questions later, we found out that the kid in the back has a car, which was something extremely valuable for our organization, so his status got pre-sorted to VIP in my head, and I registered his nondescript baggy white t-shirt upon a second glance. We wrapped up and I invited everyone to have some cake. Not just any cake, but asian bakery mousse cake, a very popular and highly rated one in Los Angeles, so they should EAT SOME DAMN CAKE ALREADY CUZ IT WAS A LOT OF WORK HAULING THAT SHIT UP TO BERKELEY.
a few years later, the bland tofu like, baggy shirt baggy jeans in a bad way kid who skipped my cake (who turned out to be older than me, gah) told me that he found me annoying when we first met. He found my chirpings grating and my mannerism “valley high, airheaded sort of way.” And I said, hey, you can kiss my ass man. Just kiss it.
Back then, before the evening we sat eating in some expensive restaurant because we were foodies wannabes, and he said slowly to me – after I had asked, do I have a chance, now? Can’t you tell me that? – And he replied, I can see us together in the future, yes, I can see myself down the years with you… thus ended my four years of relentless pursuit. – Before all that, he used to tell me what he thought of me when I asked. Not a lot, but bits and pieces, here and there.
So why the silence now, bland tofu turned (sometimes) hot stuffs? Why won’t you tell me?