I met a guy who I thought could be the potential love of my life. He was witty, sharp and intensely into numerology ( sounds bit of an oxymoron), but you gotta deal with that combination throughout this post. He brought to my notice that my birth planets are ominously aligned. I am under the influence of Saturn(Satan?) for the next 9 years of my life which directly translates to having a hard time succeeding in my career and love-life REGARDLESS of how hotshot a lover I am or how jealous I make you feel. Everything the popular media recommends you to feel when you’re supposed to meet THE ONE, were there. Namely, the butterflies, the positive vibes, the extended aww- moments, the awkward selfies … been through it all!
Naturally, it didn’t shock me that our saga of eternal love lasted for exactly two dates.
But , this post isn’t about the hormonal illusions of love and mating, this post is about the ever-so-popular ‘the other chick’.
Men always seem to have a lobby of these mysterious girls whom they like to loftily talk about. If you’re a salty observer of human expressions you’ll find yourself cringing a little when your guy talks about that cool chick. His face lights up , his brows settle in a knowing demeanour that testifies her coolness and you can do nothing about it except unwillingly lend your attention that has been uncannily piqued by ‘the cool chick’.
So, who are the crazy cool chicks? When you sit through his session of exaggerated blast of adjectives , you’ll find yourself mentally picturing those undergarment commercials for women where the girls run down the stairs together in friendly agreement and matching pairs of brassiere, laughing, and serenading each other in an attempt to eradicate poverty and violence. Absurd? You tell me.
I have spent four years in a girl’s hostel and never have I ever run down the stairs with my roommates in a pair of brassiere. Let me not get into the grandiose ideas of a girls hostel that men have, often inspired by beauty cream & tampon commercials. No, we do not dance our ways through the corridor in our towels straight from the shower. No we do not cry about fair skin and pimples to each other like those are the only problems we have.
But to get to the point, the ‘crazy cool chick’ they talk about never fits in the picture. She is this intelligent , humourous, bespectacled , uber hot chick who’s into art and literature and history and Wiccan craft and football . She plays the guitar, dances like a dream, has the thinnest waist but the largest thigh gap, an amazing orator, coaches the Greek goddesses, is sought by every man but obviously gives her attention to none. He says, she has only one weakness, she’s crazy. Your heart skips several beats and you’re overwhelmed with conscience-numbing envy when you hear ‘crazy’ because we all know that men mean it more like a defining compliment than a weakness.
But, she is a friend. A GOOD friend.
It’s funny how there is always at least one ‘the other chick’ every guy knows, and how there is absolutely zero number of ‘TOC’ that I have met. But, it’s interesting anyway because how a girl or a guy is quoted in third person becomes automatically more interesting than how he/she really is. Perhaps, ‘the other chick’ always sounds cooler on the other side of the dating farm.