Crazy Stupid Love…Actually
Gosling looks like a lion, lounging on the Savannah, as he eats pizza in a strip mall
I’m going to tell a story, that I probably shouldn’t tell, and nobody wants to hear.
It’s about my dating life.
It’s about getting rejected.
And it isn’t a good story.
But I’m going to tell it, because it’ll sit perfectly juxtaposed with the photo above.
I’m going to paint the portrait of a guy who looks more like Cal.
Minus a couple decades, a pair of New Balance sneakers, and a watered down vodka cranberry.
This guys’ night started in a bar, like all great tales, except it didn’t end there.
It ended two bars later.
And about 7 beers later.
And within those 7 beers, mixing and mingling, were some shooters.
It was a rookie mistake, and it lead to others.
I tried parkour, for the first time in my life, and yes, it was to impress some girls.
It ended with me on my face, on the concrete, bleeding from an eyebrow with a wicked rash on my cheek.
I got into the 3rd bar, found a lady, had a few more drinks. And, at the end of the night, I told her to come home with me.
She gave me a kiss, said no, and left to go get McDonalds with a gay guy.
I woke up the next morning, covered in my own vomit, and proceeded to spend the next hour praying to the porcelain god. I dragged my husk to work. Periodically, I made excuses so I could run to the shitter to puke.
I got stuck in the elevator and couldn’t make it to the toilet, so I puked in a garbage can.
A coworker found me.
She ratted me out to my manager, and I got in trouble.
And that’s the end.
Why am I telling you this?
Why am I badgering you good people of Medium with my sad story?
I guess it’s kind of cathartic.
And it’s to prove a point.
We don’t all operate like this:
Some of us are a tad clumsy.
Our execution is nothing to write home about, and not something you would want to see in action.
Watching Jacob effortlessly wheel women might make you feel good before a night out.
But in reality…
See, I watched this movie a couple weeks ago, and then hit the town the next night after.
Believe it or not, that escapade above was me attempting, with a dogged determination, to walk around and shake it up the way Jacob does.
Just look at him:
Smooth doesn’t begin to cover it.
It’s in the body language, the charisma, the footwork.
Andrew Dunn’s cinematography perfectly captures the subtle nuances of creating and maintaining attraction.
It’s in the simple psychology of posture, tone of voice, even the direction of a persons feet.
These are the queues and hints that directors Glenn Ficarra and John Requa use to depict love.
And it is just… not there for me.
In any facet of my game.
But hey, that’s okay. Because if this movie teaches us anything, its that no pathetic, sad sack of shit, is unsalvageable.
What You Get By Reaching Your Goals Is Not Nearly So Important As What You Become By Reaching Them — Goethe
Cal doesn’t turn into a womanizing god by the end of the movie. His arc isn’t becoming the next great Dicaprio, the modern, middle aged pick up artist, of our time.
He’s not heir to the throne of Jacob’s kingdom. Jacob abdicates the title himself and falls hard for, what we can only assume, the woman who winds up being the one.
Cal’s just a guy, who learns to respect himself, and teaches others to respect him too.
But what he shoots for, initially, is to end up like Jacob.
Even though he can never get there.
That’s what’s important here.
Not the result. The process.
No matter how many times you get rejected. How many Mcflurry’s and ten peice chicken nuggets you get passed up for…
You might want to remember that.
“Be as you wish to seem”— Socrates
Even if you can’t.
Ever.
For real.
