NTKOG #151: The kind of edgy-sparkly indie heroine who, with one keen line of dialogue, elevates a banal mid-afternoon scene to the soaring heights of movie-moment, holy-shit-why-is-my-face-suddenly-tingling LOVE.
I am: imagining this scene scored with a jangly guitar cover of some ’80s metal ballad. Cinderella or something? You with me?
I am not: actually the girl anyone falls in love with the first time they lay eyes on her. Those girls are vanilla-sugar. I am tamarind. The first couple of times you taste me, you spit me in your napkin.
The Scene: The JP Licks ice cream counter during a mental-health break from the office. It was a gorgeous spring afternoon and they had just unveiled their seasonal Red Sox flavors (Papelbon Pineapple, never leave me, baby), so the place was packed.
As I waited ten minutes in line, I grew transfixed by the man behind the counter. Maybe it was a trick of the sun, but he glowed faintly, like a children’s nightlight; broad shoulders, tapered waist, like the cartoon Great Dane that seduces the Parisian kitten; cheekbones so high and jutting that he stood as though suspended by them. His beauty was so great it can only be approached in metaphor.
He looked like a lot of things. The only thing he didn’t look like was a human. If a mad movie villain’s dastardly scheme hinged on infiltrating the Secret Spy Slash Supermodel Reconnaissance And Pillowfight Stronghold with a gaggle ridiculously gorgeous androids, dude, this ice cream scooper would be billed in the credits as Hot Bot #2, is what I think I’m trying to say here.
It goes without saying, then, that this guy wasn’t my type. Left to my own devices, I’d set my sights on Man Who Accidentally Squirts Self With Mustard. But as I inched forward in line — pointedly avoiding eye contact with the foursome of skateboard-toting brahs clustered behind me — it occurred to me: What if Ice Cream Scooper doesn’t know he’s so farcically beautiful? What if he thinks he’s a normal dairy purveyor? Is this why he’s woefully derailed in his prospective Hot Bot career?!
You guys. I had to let him know. I HAD THE WEIGHT OF DESTINY ON MY SIDE.
As he pushed forward my cup of Youk’s Manischewitz sorbet, he asked: “Is there anything else?”
“Uh, yeah. I just — don’t think this is a thing, because it’s not a thing, but I just — you look like you’ve been genetically engineered to be like almost eerily beautiful.”
A moment of silence that refroze the daub of sorbet dripping off the rim of my cup, and then –
CLAP.
Clap. Clap. Clapclap. And full thundering applause.
Er, not the audience in my head , of course. But from the skateboarding brahs, who didn’t just slow-clap me themselves, but actually led five or six COMPLETE STRANGERS in a sarcastic ovation.
The Verdict: Yeah, these things that I think in my head? I should probably keep inside there sometimes. I’m also impressed that this is the second time I’ve been slow-clapped by strangers in pursuit of an NTKOG. On the bright side, guess I don’t have to worry about being tempted by too many ice cream breaks this summer. Or, uh, ever again.
{ 46 comments… read them below or add one }
I loved all of the imagery in the first 90 % of this blog. And then I slammed face first into the “genetically engineered ….eerily beautiful” line.
OMG Has there ever been a more awkwardly, ill at ease, opening line in the history social interaction?! You have an enormously giant set down there!
I know! I have a problem! Like 90% of the time, I make words good. The other 10%, I clearly need to be institutionalized. If he had seen it the way it was in my head, he would have been flattered! I was imagining him in a movie with good lighting! I didn’t mean to imply eugenics!
Don’t get me wrong, it fits the title perfect. People seeing it in a movie theatre would talk about that line for years!
[Dave]“I loved all of the imagery in the first 90 % of this blog. And then I slammed face first into the “genetically engineered ….eerily beautiful” line”[/Dave] and LOLed!
Sorry.
Ken O
Thanks! :)
Mate, you put that so brilliantly I just had to re-use it.
good story, however, i need to take a moment to confirm that *manischewitz sorbet* exists in this world?!? that makes my whole day…
You know, it looks like telling a guy upfront that he is ridiculously good-looking is a pretty bad strategy. Remember the waiter who shied away from us when we tried to give him the “Don Guapissimo” award? By way of contrast, remember the equally adorable boy on the Caltrain who kept chatting with us for hours after we asked about the imaginary scar on his face?
Apparently good-looking dudes are not taken by compliments about their appearance. Average-looking dudes, however, eat it up. Kind of like women, I guess?
!!!!!!!! Dude, I just realized! Was the imaginary scar on the face the first neg we ever threw?! Slash the last, obviously.
I always hear that when you hit on an average woman, you should compliment her looks; on a gorgeous woman, her brain. That totally makes sense to me. But as we’ve discussed, I rarely feel genuinely moved to compliment a man on his looks unless he transcends human form and is basically a piece of living art. And then if I do actually say something, I am inevitably confused when they think I’m hitting on them because, dude, dude, there is literally nothing I want from a guy like that.
I often want to compliment strangers on their beauty, but never do because it’s one of those things that’s “just not done” (especially over here). So I have to be content with the fact that at least when I’m with my partner I can point it out to someone who will be appropriately appreciative. I hope the people we point out don’t notice and think we’re saying mean things about them!
I thought about you off-blog today, NTKOG. I read an article that I thought was well written and commented (silently, to myself) about it, and then thought, “But it’s well written in the way that one expects a NY Times opinion piece to be well written, it’s not like it’s the kind of sneakily incredible stuff that NTKOG comes up with.” So there you go: this is me saying out loud(ish) that you’re beautiful. That wasn’t so hard.
“I thought about you off-blog” sounds like a genetically-engineered-to-be-eerily-beautiful thing to say. Oh, the things we’re learning from TKOG!
haha, totally! oops.
“the kind of sneakily incredible stuff that NTKOG comes up with.”
That might be the most apt description of TKOG I’ve ever heard, both for this blog and for her IRL. :-)
Thank you, that’s actually a great compliment. I’m a huge fan of precise description and am glad to have gotten it right. :)
Oh man, this brings back memories. I did something similar in the first year of university. I seriously believe that everyone should do it! It’s not that hard and it gives your mates something to laugh at/gossip over/ give you high fives about for weeks.
oh jeez- you are truly my hero!
I’m new to your blog, but this is a brilliant post! I’m tempted to use that line myself. It would at least be an improvement on my current pick-up techniques…
Not only do I want a slow clap just for me one day, but I also want to start one. Hopefully, not at the expense of some poor girl’s awkward pick-up line delivery. So what did the robotic scooper have to say?
Yeah, I wouldn’t recommend slow-clapping awkward pick-up girls. I personally thought it was hilarious, but I think most girls wouldn’t have had that reaction. The only worse person to receive one would be a waitress who just dropped a tray. (Seriously, why do people clap at that? Know they not there is a special extra-oozy level of hell for them?!)
My dad, legend has it, was once at a wrestling match where his favorite dude got his ass handed to him under questionable circumstances, so my dad started a NON-SARCASTIC SLOW-CLAP that swept through the arena. I’ve never felt so proud to be related to someone in my life as I was when I heard that tale.
Friends and I were at a concert when one started the slow clap that gradually boomed through the entire venue to successfully bring the band back out for an encore. Not gonna lie — I was a little jealous that I didn’t think of it first.
And I was thisclose to chanting, “BILL BILL BILL BILL” when I saw Bill Nye the Science speak last weekend. Again, I chickened out. So lame.
Maybe it was a trick of the sun, but he glowed faintly, like a children’s nightlight; broad shoulders, tapered waist, like the cartoon Great Dane that seduces the Parisian kitten; cheekbones so high and jutting that he stood as though suspended by them. His beauty was so great it can only be approached in metaphor.
Fabio, dear?
YES! He was like a short-haired, slender Fabio. Like maybe he didn’t belong on a romance novel cover, but he would have fit nicely on the album cover of the mellow pop band who recorded the soundtrack for the movie adaptation of said romance novel.
Ooooooh boy. Okay so one time I was out with my friend and she saw “the hottest guy in the whole world” (her words, not mine). And like you, she felt the weight of the world on her shoulders and knew that she ABSOLUTELY HAD TO TELL HIM RIGHT NOW. So… she did! Just as we were leaving, she went up to him and said, “I just want you to know, I think you are very attractive.” Simple. It was so awesome. He just stood there like, “Um. Thank you! You are very attractive too.” And my friend was SO PROUD of herself for like two weeks.
Maybe next time try a route that doesn’t compare him to a robot? You know, when he hasn’t been following the whole thought process… it… um could be confusing… you know….
Anyway great post
Ballsy. And you definitely came off almost as a John Cusack… Which I’m not sure is what you’re going for, but oh well.
Also, please to eat more Red Sox ice cream for the fans trapped in places other than Boston. If there’s a flavor named after Jacoby Ellsbury? You must try it. :)
One scoop of Berry Ellsbury Low Fat Hard Yogurt coming up. But I’m so not ordering it from the JP Licks by work…
Your description of Angel from the Ice Cream Heavens reminds me of the descriptions I’ve heard of Edward Cullen. His skin glowed, eretheal beauty, didn’t look like he was human… Step away from any and all Stephanie Meyer literature. Immediately!
I know you’re joking, but I’m in all candor a little affronted to be compared to the heinous Stephenie Meyer (of whose books, I have read half of one, because my sister made me). I didn’t used the words “chagrin” or “mellifluous” NEARLY enough to approach her saccharine status!
It’s okay. It wasn’t meant as a compliment. And for the record, your writing surpasses Ms. Meyer’s a thousand fold, in my arrogant and chesty opinion.
BTDubs, I totally meant to put “literature” in quotations earlier.
Haha, I definitely knew it wasn’t a compliment. Hence the actually-sort-of-genuine affrontedness! But you have MADE THINGS RIGHT WITH ME by retracting the mockery, so I guess you can sleep with both eyes closed tonight. ;-)
There wasn’t a single mention of alabaster skin or liquid topaz eyes, so I think you’re in the clear.
Oh, man, I LOVED this post. I think it might be my all time fave of yours so far.
Also, it was an awesome line. Can I tell you my all time least fave? (I’m going to, anyway!) When Andie McDowell in 4 Weddings and a Funeral, deadpans, “Was it raining I hadn’t noticed” without any inflection or change of tone or anything. BLECH.
“You had me at hello” sends me into spasms, too.
Ok. This is awesome.
I stumbled upon your blog, and I was partly interested because I too am a Boston transplant-but this (and the ask out a stranger) have inspired me.
My new goal in life: inspire a spontaneous slow clap from strangers.
I actually can’t believe I didn’t get one for surprise-trust-falling all over them last Saturday on the Mall.
Maybe it’s because I kept falling on them.
Hmm.
What kind of compliment is acceptable to give a random dude? In my experience, unless you’re on the verge of make-out the dude usually just gets embarrassed. Must it hinge on sex? Like “you look like you’ve been genetically engineered… to make me want to fuck you”? Because I don’t think Zooey Deschanel would ever say that. Certainly not with an acoustic cover of “Don’t Know What You Got (Till It’s Gone)” playing in the background.
Okay, I love this game: the most acceptable compliment that begins with “you look like you’ve been genetically engineered to…”
You look like you’ve been genetically engineered to … make me stop talkin’ about my feelings and start smoochin’?
You look like you’ve been genetically engineered to … fall for cheesy, self-referential lines like this one?
You look like you’ve been genetically engineered to … dominate at Halo. Seriously, look at the size of your hands!
You look like you’ve been genetically engineered to … produce viable and hardy offspring?
Okay, well. Scratch the fixture on that last one, actually.
OMG. If there was a 900 number you could call to have Zooey Deschanel tell you, “you look like you’ve been genetically engineered… to make me want to fuck you,” it would make millions.
I mean, I’d call it.
And make it my ringtone.
In revere beach they have lobster tracks instead of moose tracks. Best thing I have ever tasted in my entire life. Lets go this summer.
I’ve never been slow-clapped. I’m not sure whether to be sad about this or not.
Is it just me or did the line “The first couple of times you taste me, you spit me in your napkin” sound a bit dodgy? Hahaha.
This is your best post ever.
And I thought I was the queen of awkward. No! I hand my crown to you. you deserve it TKOG.
Brilliant. You are my hero.
your writing surpasses Ms. Meyer’s a thousand fold, in my arrogant and chesty opinion.
Dear, it is lovely that you enjoy my daughter’s writing, but can you explain in detail what a chesty opinion is?
I am thrilled and pleased by the contents of your brain.
Slow clapped? Twice, no less! I think I have yet to receive a slow-clap, although I have been given the middle-finger in slow-mo once or three times.
Question for you.. did you address your slow-clap entourage? Like, tell them to eff off or something?
I did what I always do when slow-clapped — by strangers or otherwise: turned around and slowly raised up my arms in recognition, like a world-renowned maestra sustaining the last crescendo of the most glorious symphony the world has ever heard. Which, in a sense, I kind of was.
God I’ve missed you so much. Why did you have to move? Or, perhaps more to the point, why do I not live in Boston?
Strangers are talking about your blog on tumblr, FYI:
[link removed. sorry, dude! the whole anonymity thing! -TKOG]
But you knew that. HEARTS.
I was reading all the other comments and forgot what I was going to say. Something about the epicness of the slow clap, probably.
Also I, too, now want to run around starting things with “you look like you’ve been genetically engineered to…” but nobody would get it and it would just be a flaming pile of fail. And then it would be sad.
“but he glowed faintly, like a children’s nightlight”
I read that line, and immediatly turned on They Might be Giants. I’m amazed that the slow clapping thing worked for those guys. Wish you could have run with it.