Perfect Girl Series Ep 1
I’m lonely. I know I’m surrounded by a sea of people but nevertheless I’m lonely.
Nobody loves me – and by “nobody” I don’t mean anyone over 30 or anyone under the legal age, I don’t mean males, I certainly don’t include family, I don’t mean unattractive people – or at least unattractive to me (which is obviously subjective), I don’t even mean the majority of the attractive women under thirty who are out of my reach – which narrows it down a bit. Actually to be honest I just mean:
Jenny. She is everybody in my world and if she doesn’t love me then nobody does. I know this doesn’t make sense statistically – but I’ve realized the world works differently from math. Or does it?
Jen “hey Stan, I haven’t seen you for like years…”
Stan “how many years exactly?”
Jen “uh I’m not sure…”
Stan “10 years 2 months 5 days”
Jen “you live around here?”
Stan “yeah – just up the street – but I don’t get out much”
Jen “that’s probably why… I come here all the time”
There it is – my failure to recognize that the world IS mathematical – it’s all statistics.
My waiting around at home – miserable, complaining, playing the victim – facebook stalking, wasn’t helping my statistical chances of bumping into anyone – well, Jenny.
My life is going to change. I’m a mathematician – I know data – I’m good at data mining – good at finding patterns – there must be patterns in everything even human behaviour – they can be learnt – right?
(Jenny as a math’s problem on the white board).
It was 3pm Saturday. We met / intersected at the corner – she was walking down the street – I was walking up. The possibilities she could be here – cafe, restaurant, book store, window shopping – all in one area. Jenny was my ultimate proof – the previously unsolvable problem…
Why Jenny? Well just look at her – well, actually, look at me – I can’t hold eye contact, my heart beats faster, I sweat, I look shifty, my feet are shifty, I can’t quite talk and I want to get out of there and yet I really really want to stay –
She says nothing:Jen “it’s a nice neighbourhood – I like it”
But I hearJen “invite me up – I’ll do anything to stay”
They lock people away for things like this – hallucinations – or is it delusions
Whatever’s in his mind is deeply locked away – only let out in the form of letters. Yes – paper with writing – sent by snail mail to your house. The fresh smell of warm afternoon envelope – the scent of paper, ink, the thought that someone took the time to think, to write, to communicate his deepest thoughts and feelings to you – it would melt me. He would melt my heart – every single time.
And yet – in person – not a word – not a whisper – as if he had never ever sent one.
I liked it though – the secret world – didn’t want it to end – the feeling of nobody knowing except … him. The secret that I was special – we were special. Surrounded by a sea of people – often feeling absolutely alone – except that one person – knows you’re alive, cares you’re alive – made me feel…alive.
Jen “so, I’m about to…”
Stan “oh, yeah – sorry I have to go”
Stan “someone…to see… a date… appointment”
Jen “oh… ok then see you around?”
I died a little with those words… why’d he have to say that? What was he telling me?
‘see you around’ – reeks of possibility – was it a question? or a statement? Almost positively 30% a question and 70% statement.
And then we walk – her to the west and me to the east… just like that Murakami story: On meeting the 100% perfect girl one beautiful April morning…
Stan walks away- he considers something…
STAN: What I should really say is:
Stan turns – calls out to Jenny
She turns – beaming
Stan:”do you remember when we were in middle school?”
She begins to smile: