wink mission, update

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Recently, after a tip from the Playboy Advisor, I set out to investigate the efficiency of the wink viz. a flirtation device. (Flirtation device! That’s catchy! Are you listening, Mystery? Style?) But I’ve suffered a setback: a yucky, oozing scratch/cut on my right cheek, pretty much straight down, a vertical line of grossness two inches or so. I’ve covered it with a band-aid — though people are suspicious it’s a drastic pimple response — which makes me look either: (a) non-shidduch material, according to my mum; or (b) tough, according to me, even after I switched to the sheer band-aid (mostly because the Little Mermaid band-aids are limited to Ariel, who’s hot and everything, but not my favorite character by a long shot) after the burlap-y one restricted eye movement; or (c) ridiculous, according to most others. Notice ‘attractive’ was not one of the options, nor sympathy-inspiring, like crutches are. The point of all this is… I just can’t bring myself to wink looking like a menacing/ridiculous/unshidduchable kike. Now, this doesn’t mean I haven’t made any progress; the hesitation is, in itself, informative. Clearly, I’m aware of the wink’s implications, at least on some level, and am wary to ‘unleash’ it while my pulchritude* is compromised. Because I think it might work. Actually, it’s more psychically complex than that: While I’m intellectually resigned to the fact that a wink almost will definitely not work, I can’t extinguish what must be an intrinsic male hope that it might.

In other words, the following dictum is apparently inescapable: You never know, maybe your life will resemble a porno.

*I couldn’t resist. Sorry.

Written by menachemkaiser

11 September at 00:19

Posted in Uncategorized

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