I am a strong proponent of research and investigation. I like to see if there is a scientific way to explain stuff, particularly, you know, the non-scientific stuff. This perhaps why I found Boobquake to be such a worthy endeavor, in addition to the obvious benefit of advocating for a day of trampy dress for a purpose –> science! It is in this long honored tradition of the scientific method that I recently embarked on a little experiment of my own. I am calling the project: “The Sure Thing: Myth or Reality.”
The hypothesis was born from the words of Ex #5 who said, with his characteristic charm and sensitivity, ” Oh, her? I knew I could sleep with her, she was leaving the next week.” Huh? He explained that as a young man he learned early on that while trolling visiting the beaches of Europe, one always kept their eyes out for the group of girls who were about to return to the gloomy UK after a week of “What happens in Ibiza, stays in Ibiza.” They were the ones who were going to go out with a, err… bang. It goes a little something like this:
Guy you kind of know: Hey, how’s it going?
You: Hey, wow, hi. Nice to see you, it’s been a while.
GYKOK: So, I hear you are leaving town, is that true?
You: Um, yeah.
GYKOK: Cool. Where you going? Is it, like, vacation, or like, are you moving?
You: Uh, yeah, leaving.
GYKOK: So, you wanna hang out?
GYKOK: I always wanted to hang out with you more, I don’t know why we never did.
GYKOK: Come on, let’s get out of here.
So, this guy is a guy you have known a while. He is probably someone you would have dated, or at least contemplated, and he probably knows this. On finding out you are leaving he is suddenly interested? Huh? Anyhow, far be it for me to purport a hypothesis without taking a little bit of time to investigate. There are three situations under analysis, and I would like to stipulate, for the scientific record, that they all presented themselves to me… not the other way around, and these seemingly disconnected events made me wonder if there was an actual connection due to the simple, and known fact that I am leaving town (at least for a while). Was I starting to take on the appearance of a “sure thing”?
The definition is simple, but the concept a little more complex: 80s term. means a person that will definitely give you sex, no excuses, no ifs, ands or buts. Sex is imminent. Frankly, I know lots of people to whom this description would be apt (and I am not judging) regardless of their tendencies towards pulling a geographical (again, not judging – been there, done that.) Then there is the “Sure Thing” stigma. I mean who wants to be known as a “Sure Thing”? Nicolette Sheridan did not seem to mind in the 1985 film of the same name, she comes across as a playa rather than a slut too, so that is a win for her. A friend I was speaking with this morning with regard to this subject said, “Every guy is a sure thing.” When I suggested that it was unlikely that could be true she replied, “Are you being daft? Name a guy who would turn down sex. Ever. ” While I am sure there are numerous pertinent examples, I suddenly couldn’t think of one.
In the name of science I have been paying closer attention than normal to interactions spawned from conversations that begin with the details of my imminent departure. Of course, this creates a whole other problem along the lines of quantum theory: “the very act of watching, the observer affects the observed reality.” So, who really knows what is going on. I do know this, on learning that our paths would cross again on the other side of my trip to India, the circumstances of one social engagement – arranged specifically as a night of au revoir – changed in tone and tenor immediately. I don’t mind; from my side of the table the Observable was certainly not a Sure Thing, but still would it matter?
In another circumstance, the Observable was fairly direct: “You are leaving? We should get together before you go.” Alright, that seems clear. Then he added, “You know I thought you had left a long time ago anyhow.” Huh, not sure where to go with that. Doubt we’ll be “connecting.”
Finally, there is one who I actually was kind of encouraging to employ the Sure Thing strategy. ON the discovery that I would be leaving, he said, “Oh, that’s a drag, we never really got to hang out.”
And that was it.
Like Rob Reiner’s tagline suggests, perhaps “somewhere on the road to a sure thing, you might just discover the real thing.” I might add, that it is pretty unlikely to be all about getting laid, not that there is anything wrong with that….
[ps: totally forgot Tim Robbins was in this movie: I’m Gary Cooper. But not the dead one.”]