izza
Master Don Juan
Perhaps few of my little adventures so far are more characteristic of my personality than my painfully lamentable interactions with smoker chick.
This is a girl I met in December. Her dad is American so we speak English, she's about my height and thin as a fishing rod (I'm being nice, so I didn't say the fishing line). But all this is made up for by a pretty face and figure, bright brown eyes, a sharp, curious and educated mind, and a great sense of humor. When we met in December, we had an instant connection. I was almost certain there was going to be something between us. I was quite excited to get to know her. We went out the first time, and we were laughing about something or other when she pulled out her first cigarette. Then another, then another. She's not a chain smoker, but she usually smokes about 1 an hour.
This was devestating. You have to understand to what extent this bothers me. Earlier on in November, I went on a few dates with a drop dead gorgeous girl, who seemed to like me just fine. Blonde hair, blue eyes, French, tall - and what's more, gentle, generous, intelligent, and athletic. She is the kind of girl that we are on this site to look for. And I dropped her because she smoked. Now she's gone forever and I don't regret a thing.
So, I don't think I need to tell you that smoker chick was instantaneously in the friend zone, where she has been up until about a month ago. That was when I started to rethink my policy on smokers. We had gone out a few times as friends and always had a fabulous time doing various things. A month ago we went out and had a blast checking out one part of town, eating out etc. We happened to pass her apartment and she invited me up. I accepted nervously, forseeing the inner struggle ahead. Like I said, I'm very attracted to everything about smoker girl except that she's a smoker. So, I'm sitting there in her awesome apartment, frozen like ice. On the one hand, the thought of kissing an ashtray is not at all my ideal. It is also my first kiss in a long time, so I'm trying to make it at least taste good, if not be good. But I started to wonder if I was just grossly exaggerating the importance of the whole smoking thing as an excuse to retreat from battle and to go home pitying my chick-less life (pitying myself is traditionally one of my favorite pastimes). Besides, I've never kissed a smoker before. How the hell do I know that it will be bad?! All I know is that I've heard it's disgusting.
We were play fighting alone in her room and I desperately wanted to plant one on her - which I think she would like by the way. But every time, the image of a mouthful of ash came to mind and I just couldn't. I took leave of her and I couldn't help but feel that I had fallen for the oldest trick in my book of tricks: extreme exaggeration of a little problem in order to prevent me from acting. I was so disappointed with myself that I promised to act the next time.
The problem with my personality, of course, is that my promises don't mean jack-sh*t. I can say without exaggeration that I was up in her apartment the very next day. This time it would have been just as easy too. She was just lying on her bed waiting for me to join her. But just like in the cartoons, her head dissolved into the image of a blackened ash-tray, and I just would not, could not do it. Sigh! I'm not too high and mighty to say that I am still frustrated as hell.
Most of us believe on this site that we should find women who fit who we are and what we want. But in real life a person has to make compromises, even little ones because nobody is perfect. This isn't even for a long term relationship or anything. This is just for the hell of it.
In the abstract, I did the right thing. I wanted to kiss her, but not to kiss her cigarettes (she never uses mints or anything). But it's just so typical of me to seek 100% assurance that I'm doing something I won't regret that I'm suspicious of myself.
Izza
PS Also, one of my fears is that kissing a girl who smokes is just one step closer to trying a cigarette and/or getting addicted. How is that for exaggeration!
Izza
This is a girl I met in December. Her dad is American so we speak English, she's about my height and thin as a fishing rod (I'm being nice, so I didn't say the fishing line). But all this is made up for by a pretty face and figure, bright brown eyes, a sharp, curious and educated mind, and a great sense of humor. When we met in December, we had an instant connection. I was almost certain there was going to be something between us. I was quite excited to get to know her. We went out the first time, and we were laughing about something or other when she pulled out her first cigarette. Then another, then another. She's not a chain smoker, but she usually smokes about 1 an hour.
This was devestating. You have to understand to what extent this bothers me. Earlier on in November, I went on a few dates with a drop dead gorgeous girl, who seemed to like me just fine. Blonde hair, blue eyes, French, tall - and what's more, gentle, generous, intelligent, and athletic. She is the kind of girl that we are on this site to look for. And I dropped her because she smoked. Now she's gone forever and I don't regret a thing.
So, I don't think I need to tell you that smoker chick was instantaneously in the friend zone, where she has been up until about a month ago. That was when I started to rethink my policy on smokers. We had gone out a few times as friends and always had a fabulous time doing various things. A month ago we went out and had a blast checking out one part of town, eating out etc. We happened to pass her apartment and she invited me up. I accepted nervously, forseeing the inner struggle ahead. Like I said, I'm very attracted to everything about smoker girl except that she's a smoker. So, I'm sitting there in her awesome apartment, frozen like ice. On the one hand, the thought of kissing an ashtray is not at all my ideal. It is also my first kiss in a long time, so I'm trying to make it at least taste good, if not be good. But I started to wonder if I was just grossly exaggerating the importance of the whole smoking thing as an excuse to retreat from battle and to go home pitying my chick-less life (pitying myself is traditionally one of my favorite pastimes). Besides, I've never kissed a smoker before. How the hell do I know that it will be bad?! All I know is that I've heard it's disgusting.
We were play fighting alone in her room and I desperately wanted to plant one on her - which I think she would like by the way. But every time, the image of a mouthful of ash came to mind and I just couldn't. I took leave of her and I couldn't help but feel that I had fallen for the oldest trick in my book of tricks: extreme exaggeration of a little problem in order to prevent me from acting. I was so disappointed with myself that I promised to act the next time.
The problem with my personality, of course, is that my promises don't mean jack-sh*t. I can say without exaggeration that I was up in her apartment the very next day. This time it would have been just as easy too. She was just lying on her bed waiting for me to join her. But just like in the cartoons, her head dissolved into the image of a blackened ash-tray, and I just would not, could not do it. Sigh! I'm not too high and mighty to say that I am still frustrated as hell.
Most of us believe on this site that we should find women who fit who we are and what we want. But in real life a person has to make compromises, even little ones because nobody is perfect. This isn't even for a long term relationship or anything. This is just for the hell of it.
In the abstract, I did the right thing. I wanted to kiss her, but not to kiss her cigarettes (she never uses mints or anything). But it's just so typical of me to seek 100% assurance that I'm doing something I won't regret that I'm suspicious of myself.
Izza
PS Also, one of my fears is that kissing a girl who smokes is just one step closer to trying a cigarette and/or getting addicted. How is that for exaggeration!
Izza
