I woke up this morning and had an epiphany. I’ve never dated a woman that’s been a ‘type’.
Types..
Every day you see them walking down the street, the couples that fit together like two peas in a pod. You go to Williamsburg, and there they are, two little hipster dildoes, walking arm and arm, chuckling ironically together about something indubitably douchebaggy.
You go uptown, and you see the tan couples, the guys in their polo shirts tucked neatly into their pressed blue jeans. The women with the long hair, parted stylishly, or perhaps pulled back in a ponytail if they’re feeling jaunty. They’re drinking apple martinis and talking about their share in Bridgehampton.
Types…. Every woman I’ve ever been with has been completely unique, atypical, flawed, broken, damaged, alienated, apart, separate. Not one could be described as a ‘type’.
Well ok, there was ONE girl I went out with that definitely typified the ‘hipster douchebag’. She listened to bands like ‘The Decemberists’ and all her friends were endlessly working on their 25th Master’s degree in some lame area like ‘Political commitment in 20th century art’. I can tell you, we did not get on very well. In fact, I’d have to say it was by far the most contentious relationship I’ve ever been in. I swear, there were times I had really violent thoughts towards her. She felt the same way about me as well. Her famous quote to me was, ‘I’d rather stab a sharp stick in my eye than to listen to you for one more second’
That’s pretty violent.
Why do I attract the mismatched socks, the awkward, those lacking in social skills, the disaffected? Well obviously it’s because that’s exactly who the hell I am isn’t it? Of course, the sad irony is that I have no great love for myself, so why the hell do I wanna be with another ME? The thing is though, I can love a misfit. Misfits can be loveable, and for the most part they’re smart and on occasion very sexy – if you’re lucky.
I think the majority of people are brought up to be a specific ‘type’. In some way, somewhere down the line, they either chose, or were pushed down a path that led them to their eventual style. In my case, it’s easy to figure out why I’m such a square peg. Both my parents were complete characters that were unlike any other parents I’ve ever known. They gave no direction whatsoever, fought like cats and dogs, were clinically neurotic and on occasion psychotic. However, they also imparted a flood of cultural knowledge into my brain that I carry with me to this day.
Still, I’m no type…
I asked my girlfriend why she never became a ‘type’. She said that when she was still in school, she could never decide which group she wanted to join -as if she found them all alien on some fundamental level. Her parents were very quiet, and painfully shy, so she never developed proper social skills. As she grew up, she was never able to make those connections most people make, and got lost…discarded from the deck of life.
I think this is why a lot of people find it so hard to commit to a relationship. They’re searching for their perfect TYPE, and not the perfect PERSON. I’ll admit for years I was the same way, which was simply ridiculous, as I’m not even sure the ‘type’ of girl I was looking for exists. In the end, every relationship I’ve been a part of has just been the random coupling of two complete characters fumbling about together aimlessly. Two lost souls, two drifters, two mismatched socks, most certainly not two peas in a pod.
I used to have this girl I knew that would always tell me I’d never find anyone worth having because I was a negative creep, a total slob and I hated myself. Until I changed my ways, I’d always be disappointed. Well, to an extent I suppose that’s true. I think lately though, I’ve become to accept myself more, and even forgive myself for past failures.
When I interviewed Harvey Pekar for my website, I asked him if he was ever embarrassed by anything he wrote about, he said, ‘Why? It’s not like I’ve done any great crime.. committed murder or anything like that’. That really struck home with me. I’m not a bad person, I mean, just ‘cause I’ve got some strong opinions about some stuff doesn’t make me some TOTAL oddball. Just ‘cause I don’t fit into some ‘type’…
This has freed me up… I feel way more able to enjoy connections, and truly feel – dare I say – love? I’d rather be a couple of mismatched socks than a couple of douchebags that’s for sure. I also love the friends I have in my life, the fellow misfires. It’s funny that it’s taken me this long to figure it all out, as it all seems so obvious. Makes me ponder, if I knew then what I know now, would it have made a difference? Could I have made a go of any of my failed relationships? I guess I’ll never know, but it hardly matters. The only thing that matters is stringing together the days that don't completely suck.
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