Games

Games –

The other day, I was talking to my friend about the dating games we play.  She didn’t want to call a guy she’s been seeing because she didn’t want to seem too eager – I told her that if she wanted to call him, she should call him, which launched a lively discussion about games. (P.S. we compromised on a text.  It worked out.  That is all.)

Here’s the thing:  I’ve been playing these so-called games since I was 13 and someone told me you have to act like you don’t like a boy if you want him to like you back (oh, so stalking doesn’t work?  Noted.)  It was okay to be bad at this crap when I was 13.  But now...
Sixteen (yikes), I repeat 16-years later this is still a game I’m losing.  Not only am I losing, I don’t even know the rules.  It’s like Monopoly, Chutes & Ladders, Twister and SORRY!  all combined into one festive clusterfuck.

How so, you ask?  Great question.  In Monopoly you can own lots of property but just as easily wind up bankrupt.  Same with dating – you can be playing the field and end up with no one.  Like you decide to buy the shitty properties (hello Baltic Ave) just so you’ll have SOMETHING but wind up wishing you waited until Boardwark or Park Place were available, but now they’re dating the leggy blonde they met on their softball team who can actually hit while you just look stupid.

Now you’ve just wasted all this time dating other people trying not to look too eager while some opportunistic poor man’s Tori Spelling swooped in and took what was rightfully yours.  But since you were all, “let me date other people so he’ll know I’m interested” it backfired right into your living room on a Friday night where you’re drinking wine and watching the Golden Girls alone.

You also have to deal with the ups and downs of dating, just like the ups and downs of Chutes & Ladders.  One minute you’re flying high and the next thing you know, you’re right back where you started (or maybe you truly never left but were getting enough on the side not to notice).  One week you can have three dates but then the next year brings you zero (not that I’m referring to myself here – just so we’re clear).

You have to deal with arbitrary luck, just like in Sorry! (or Twister) where the draw of a card or spin of a wheel can set you back in the game or force you into a position that even weeks of yoga couldn’t prepare you for.  Sometimes it’s just being in the right place at the right time.  Sometimes, you’re in the right place at the right time and still screw it up.  Sometimes it’s so blatantly obviously right there in front of you that you screw it up because you’re so used to playing games that when it’s handed to you on a silver platter you turn it into a game and lose.

At what point does our not wanting to appear overeager translate to disinterest?  You can think you’re playing it cool when really you’ve alienated people from asking you out because they think you want nothing to do with them (awesome if that’s actually the case!!).  At what point does you going after what you want become stalkerish or crazy?  How many times has someone told you to “play it cool” and you wound up playing with yourself?

Why do we still have to play these games when we’re almost 20-10?  I mean, it’s one thing to play games when you’re eighteen, but quite another when you’re trying to have an adult relationship but the honesty ship has sailed.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m not calling all of us liars.  I’m just asking why we can’t be more honest about our emotions with ourselves and others.  How hard is it to tell someone you like them (kind of hard, I know, I’m guilty of it too).  How hard is it to say, “thanks but no thanks?”  Okay, that actually IS hard and I’ve resorted to basically dropping off the planet to avoid having to say that, a move that tripped the karma alarm and it’s been blaring in my ear ever since.  Thanks, I get it.  And why, if we do tell someone we're interested, is it considered a bad thing?  It's not like you hunted down their email address off their company's web site to email them this at work.  Oh, you did?  My bad.

Where was I?  Oh yes.  Honesty.  The games we play have become so drawn out and the rules so convoluted that my new (and only) rule is this:  if you try to play games with me, you’ll be playing by yourself.  Or with yourself.  Which preposition is more appropriate?  Did I really just ask that?  Is this the reason I’m single?


I guess if I'm going to be single either way, I'd at least like to know I did all I could rather than being involved in a game I didn't even want to play in the first place, or know the rules to, and therefore wound up losing by default.