Do you remember the movie with Helen Hunt where she plays the romantic interest to the man with OCD? I can’t remember the title, maybe you can help me with that. Do you remember near the end he was so enamored with her that he forgot his condition?
I thought about writing a short story along those same lines, except in this one, the guy is a total klutz. He gets up in the morning and knocks the alarm clock off the bed, then struggles to find it, then can’t put his pants on without tripping, squirts toothpaste on the sink, drops an egg, gets his clothes caught in the door, can’t buckle his seat belt, etc. Then he meets a girl, they fall in love, she gets frustrated by his goofiness, then realizes he’s the best guy ever and the book ends with them kissing…and he doesn’t screw it up and miss her mouth.
I thought about writing that story because I’m that guy. Seriously. If something can fall, it will. If I can drop something, I will. I have to try to pick up something two or three times, close a door twice to make it latch, clean up splashed soapy water, etc. I put new cat food in the container a couple weeks ago and went to shake it to mix the old stuff and new…and forgot the lid was cracked. It came off and most of the food went on the carpet. Brown food…brown carpet. A week ago, I tripped over my clothes hamper and scared the crap out of the cat. If I put a fitted sheet on the bed, I’ll invariably put it on incorrectly and have to start over. Cups tip over when I reach for them. I trip when I try to put on my clothes. I turn corners too sharply and wham my knee, shoulder, or face into the wall. A couple weekends ago, I emptied the trash at work and the bag split…twice. I can’t seem to catch the traffic right coming out of a particular Casey’s and end up waiting for five minutes. I bought a car some weeks ago and hadn’t had it two months before I backed into another car and tore the bumper skin.
I’m the reason the phrase, “We just can’t keep good stuff around here” was said.
I can’t get a particular key to work on the computer unless I hit two or three or four times. Last October I moved into a new apartment and lost a coin I’d been carrying around for over ten years. I went to open the window and the frame split. If I have to screw something together the threads don’t match the first three times. And let’s not even talk about threading a needle.
I’m the third guy in line waiting to turn at the light and the car in front of me doesn’t want to turn. I’m the guy who comes up on a slowpoke on the interstate but when I go to pass find a line of cars a mile long already in the left lane. I’m the guy who comes up on a slow tractor and waits for the cars ahead to pass, but when it’s my turn some yahoo behind me goes first. I’m the guy who wants to pass, but can’t quite get around the car fast enough for the speed demon behind me or else I have to speed up a lot to be able to get back in the right lane to catch my exit.
I’m the guy who left an energy drink in the car overnight on a cold winter’s night. Yes, it exploded. A stray cat I was caring for crapped in the back of my car. Another crapped before I got it to the shelter. I leave the window down juuuust enough the car wash sprays me. I’m the guy who could checkout of the grocery store with ease but realizes he needs one more item only to return to find every cashier busy with at least four deep. Or the times I’ve shopped at midnight for three items with only one cashier open and I get behind the guys who are buying enough food to see them through the next nuclear winter.
I’m the guy who can’t hit the foot square opening on the wastebasket from two feet away. Even on the second shot.
And don’t try to tell me that I’m not the only one who goes through this type of crap on a daily basis. Not with the lion’s share I experience.
I try, you know. I try to slow down, but that does no good. I try to watch out for things, plan a bit better when doing something. Nope, nothing works. I’ve got the little invisible imp hovering over me who goes, “Zing him now” every so often.
The only thing missing is, you guessed it, the pretty girl to make everything right.
Where oh where can she be?
She was probably the one I missed while I bent down to tie my shoelace and bumped my head on the lamppost.