The Girl Watcher

I’m a girl watcher through and through. I find most of my time not dealing with the finer points of God’s plan are spent admiring the finer points of the female. I love everything about them. When they’re little, they’re soft, cute, cuddly and ticklish. Lovable. For the best, that never changes. At least not when they’re with someone they love and cherish.

I see a lot of girls at the park I frequent. I’ve seen many of them in love and too many of them not. I’ve seen couples role in the grass like in the movies, but not acting. I’ve seen a date end with a woman declaring in no-uncertain-terms not to ask her out a again! I’ve seen girls drooling over guys without a clue. I’ve drooled over girls who didn’t have a clue. But some girls are just plain confusing.

Last week I saw a girl who was everything a girl should be. She was on a double date with, what looked like, a friend and two brothers. She was giving me the eye. I was giving it back with a smile. She was having a good time throwing the Frisbee, and I was having a good time watching. It looked like we both wanted to talk, but were uncomfortable about how to go about it; she was, after all, on a date. We both left at the arrival of dusk and I hoped that if she was interested in me as much as I thought she was, she would come back to the park on the off-chance I would be here. Of course I would be.

Well she did return a few days later. Alone. I was so exited! I thought I was going to get me a girlfriend! Finally. But to my amazement, when she noticed me smiling at her, she sat facing away from me! In fact, she sat there in the shade of the closest tree to me for over an hour and never once glanced in my direction. In fact, the more I watched her (hoping to catch her eye and attention) the more I realized she was going out of her way to ignore me! This was way out of character from the her I saw just two days earlier who couldn’t keep her eyes off me. I was devastated to say the least. I watched her all the way up to the point she left the park and proceeded down the road on foot. She never looked in my direction once.

I thought perhaps she was just nervous since she was all alone; she didn’t feel comfortable meeting a new stranger all alone in the park. But, I saw her a couple of days later in the county library. Nice public place, plenty of people. She didn’t even give me a chance to see her let alone smile at her. She saw me first and fained interest in waiting at the counter to be helped with her purchase of what may have been a hasty selection of old magazines the library has for sale near the door. (That’s where she was when I came in, I couldn’t see her through the reflection, but she could see me coming.)

Well, I don’t know what her game was, but I’ve gotten nothing but rejection since coming to St. [Satan] George, Utah. This is discouraging for a number of reasons. First, it hurts because the whole reason I came here in the first place was to find me a nice wife and start my family. I picked St. George because my church has a strong presence here. Second, because I had spent ten years turning away prospects because I thought I already had a girl who wanted me. She was my first rejection. Third, because I don’t know why I’m getting rejected. I may not be a gods-gift-to-women, but when I look in the mirror I see an attractive man that should be able to get a somewhat desirable, attractive woman. But the most important reason is that having a wife is a fundamental requirement for mans eternal, celestial joy.

Every time I find a girl I like who seem to like me back, I become obsessed. It’s like a form of tunnel vision. My thoughts revolve around her and I start entertaining fantasies of marriage and family raising. I’m kind of funny that way I guess; most guys have sexual fantasies. Like today, for instance, when I found that tortoise. I wanted to pick it up and take it too my latest non-celebrity crush. I wanted to share the unique experience with her as though she were my wife. Other times, like when I’m riding my bike to or from town, I think about how much easier it would be if I had her as my wife and a bicycle built for two.

I guess this is what it means to be lonely. I never understood that until now. When I was little, my mom used to use loneliness as a curse on me; she often threatened that I was going to be lonely because of the things I did (like being mean to my sisters and such). Though I did stop being mean, I never did see what was so bad with being alone. I am by nature an unsocial, loner, much like the cowboys of the old west. I understand now that being alone and loneliness are two different things. I still enjoy being alone, but I wish I wasn’t so lonely.

I often find myself gazing at a girl and thinking, I’d give anything to have a woman like her. I have to try hard to brake myself from that habit. I don’t have anything to offer a woman except. . . the gospel maybe, love, babies for sure (at least I hope, I am getting pretty old), and friendship. In todays world, those are not considered valuable. I’ve noticed most modern girls are conditioned to expect materialistic things of this world. What’s girls best friend, for instance? I can’t even afford a cigar band. But “wouldn’t [she] look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle built for two”?

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