The past few weeks have been very eventful for your pal DownToBuck. The good news is, I’m back and I’m making highlight videos. The bad news is, well, it’s not really bad news, but there’s a lot of crazy stuff that has led up to this point. So I’m going to start at the beginning.
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DownToBuck is not a social creature by nature. Opportunities to meet new people in a meaningful way are basically nonexistent. I’m not, like, going to church or to D&D games or to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings or anything like that. If I go outside, it’s either to engage in physical exercise or to procure necessary goods for home (such as food, hygiene items, and Pop Tarts).
Normally, a single dude like me would be trying to insert himself into all kinds of social situations in order to maximize the chances of meeting a girl who might be girlfriend material. Since I am currently done with women and will be done with women forever (bar some sudden change of heart, such as finding out that FreeDawkins is actually a female version of myself who lives two blocks away and is super hot and wants to make highlight videos together while cuddling [and other stuff]), it’s not a big deal that I basically never am in contact with women.
Since I am not in the market for a GF, I am relatively flirt-resistant during the rare occasions that a woman is actually flirting with me. Usually they’ll take the hint and give up. But three weeks ago, I met this woman at the grocery store who took forever to shake off.
It all started in the frozen foods aisle. That’s one of the, like, three aisles in the grocery store that I spend any time in, since I am not skilled enough in the kitchen to prepare food out of raw ingredients. Some woman saw me going for the Drumstick ice cream cones and decided that was enough of an opening to talk to me.
“What’s your favorite flavor?” she asked.
I was surprised that a pretty woman was asking me that because most pretty women are into yogurt and juice blends and stuff like that. Not factory-made ice cream cones. “The Oreo ones are pretty good.” A lot of nerds would be autisming hard and stuttering when a very, and I mean very, attractive girl is talking to them, but I’ve transcended such awkwardness, so it was no problem to keep my cool. However, even I had to be taken aback at what she said next.
“I bet you have a pretty big drumstick.”
I will make no comment here on the attributes of my “drumstick”. In real life, I played dumb in my response: “I think Nestle’s pretty serious about keeping these things a consistent size.” That kind of oblivious reply completely threw this woman off her game, and I escaped the store without further incident.
Then, two weeks ago, it happened again. I was at the park by myself shooting hoops and enjoying one of the last nice days of Wisconsin autumn. Sometimes people will kind of watch me out of the corner of their eye if I’m really splashing, but I wasn’t splashing that day. I was bricking. That didn’t stop a cute, young-twenties woman in a crop top and yoga pants from coming over to chat.
First off, her doing toe-touches while facing away from me and wearing see-through yoga pants was completely flagrant and unnecessary. Second off, I don’t know why she complimented my shooting form. It’s not the worst, but my guide hand just kind of wonks off to the side as soon as I release the ball. And, as I said, I was a total brick machine that day. Third off, it was too cold for a crop top.
When she asked me if I was an NBA fan, I told her that I spend most of the season making highlight videos for YouTube. Often, women will pretend to be interested in this facet of my life, but this chick was totally dismissive. She said, “When we’re boyfriend and girlfriend you don’t need to waste your time with that stuff.”
Let me be clear here. This woman was way, way, way out of my league. If “my league” is planet Earth, she was sitting on Pluto going around the sun in an elliptical orbit. I hope that metaphor made sense. Anyway, there was no reason this girl shouldn’t already have a really muscular, stud-muffin boyfriend, and there she was just offering to be my girlfriend.
When I told her that things wouldn’t work out between us if I wasn’t allowed to cultivate and grow my YouTube highlights empire, she piled on the flirtage extra heavy.
“I’ll make you forget all about YouTube,” she purred while caressing my arms and licking her lips. That was another weird thing. I have almost no muscles in my arms. My arms are not fun to caress. Anybody who thinks my arms are “jacked” or “ripped” is a moron.
I won’t pretend that there wasn’t a part of me that was intrigued by this woman. There was. It was probably my one and only chance to get with a literal 10/10. But I have a duty to my subscriber base, so I did the only thing I could think of to do:
I took my ball and I went home. Literally. But that wasn’t the end of my adventure.