I Broke My Own Rule and Brought My Self-Esteem Issues to a Football Game

Here is a (truncated, punctuated, and spell-corrected version of a) text message conversation that took place between my brother’s girlfriend and me at the Patriots game on Sunday:

  • Nic: Your boyfriend is such a gentleman.
  • Brother’s Girlfriend: Are you sure you’re referring to the right person?
  • Nic: Some girl in the row behind us is touching his head and he keeps angrily telling her to stop. Pretty romantic, I think. Meanwhile I keep secretly wishing she would touch my head.
  • Nic: Just for the validation of someone finding me desirable.
  • Nic: But NOOO, she touches my uncle’s head before she touches mine! I’m fat and ugly.
  • BGF: Haha, who is this girl touching everyone?!
  • BGF: Everyone but you.*
  • Nic: IDK! She just touched my dad’s head.
  • BGF: So even if she touches your head now, at this point it would just be an afterthought.
  • Nic: I’m the fattest person ever.
  • BGF: No way dude!
  • BGF: Clearly she’s drunk and thinks she already touched your head.
  • Nic: You’re right, maybe that’s it! Or maybe she’s afraid to touch my head because she secretly likes me the most.
  • Nic: Or maybe I’m delusional.
  • BGF: No. She’s in love with you and doesn’t want to ruin her chances by treating you like all the others.
  • Nic: I feel a little better now.

And then I got distracted because there was a football game happening in front of me. And then Gronkowski broke his arm and I internally cried like a baby over my team losing the best tight end in the league for essentially the rest of the season. And then I cried even more over the fact that I was rejected by a drunk, head-touching woman. And then the drunk, head-touching woman FINALLY touched my head, and I was dismayed to learn (yet again) that a slight expression of validation didn’t solve all of my problems.

                                        This is kind of the best place ever.

And I’ve now written yet another blog post that highlights my extreme need for therapy. I’m thinking that for my first session, I should just print out every post I’ve ever written, hand them to the therapist in a neat stack and say, “Please read these and fix me.”

P.S. I am fully aware that my whole being gay thing should have eliminated any interest or concern with the drunk, head-touching woman whatsoever — but this post clearly proves that low self-esteem knows no gender.

P.P.S. I’m currently writing this blog from the Metro North train, and I just made the BIGGEST SCENE EVER because I thought I saw a cockroach creeping around near my foot. I screamed, and people turned around to find me with my legs entirely in the air. All the while, I was wondering what kind of a weird breed of cockroach this was because it appeared to be silver and kind of shiny. I started imagining that if I were lucky enough to be able to get to work alive and Google “silver cockroach,” I’d discover some kind of crazy, poisonous, bacteria-spreading death insect that everyone but me knew about. Then I looked closer and realized it was just a nickel that had somehow rolled in my direction, so I exhaled – though my relief was severely tainted by the fact that I’m now hallucinating on trains. Check, please.

 

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Comments

  1. I don’t blame you for the cockroach hallucination – better safe than sorry! (I think roaches are thee most vile insects. I’d sooner cuddle with a tarantula than be forced to see a roach from across the room/subway.)

  2. Nic, have you been sleeping enough lately? LOL!

    And your brother’s girlfriend sounds like a real gem. The head-touching woman sounds like a creep though! I’d stay the hell away from her–she could be spreading a hair-loosing bacteria for all you know and you’d be bald within Christmas. Yikes!

    • Haha, this holiday break will be much needed!

      The head-touching girl was a bit drunk and cray… but hopefully not nefarious enough to spread diseases. Though now you have me worried! Lol.

  3. I am seriously LMFAO! I love reading your posts first thing in the morning. It makes my day!

  4. See, my method (as per my Random Guy at IKEA post) is to pretend that I’m sooo well-loved that I don’t hafta actually try in real life. This is my clever way of pretending that I actually have the self-esteem AND looks to hit on people, when in actuality, I’m more terrified of rejection than you are of… well, nickels, if we’re being honest.

    But as for the self-esteem thing, I get it. I get indignant when I go out with some of my buddies and a woman doesn’t hit on me.

    Friend: But dude, you’re gay…
    Me: That bitch didn’t know that!

    All that being said, I relate a little bit too much to this…

  5. You make me crazy ass happy. I spaz about pretend bugs too but they are usually in my hair so I wind up jumping out of my chair, whipping my hair around and hitting myself in the head. “Oh, it was just some hair in my collar.”
    I’m sorry about Gronkowski, I love his name thus he is the only one of the Patriots that I would tolerate. Doesn’t Gronkowski, Rob Gronkowski sound like a guy that would have played for the Steelers in the 70s?
    You are NOT fat!
    Happy Thanksgiving
    thepatriotssuck

  6. In response to your P.S., gay or straight it doesn’t matter. By the end of your post I was all wanting her to rub my head, too 🙂

  7. I think this blog is your therapy. No, sorry, wrong. It’s mine.

  8. “Or maybe she’s afraid to touch my head because she secretly likes me the most.”

    ^Very true. It’s always the person who WON’T hug you who wants to jump your bones.

    Also, I’m a therapist who has read all your blog posts. Just saying. (Though we’d probably benefit more from going to group therapy together to address our everyone-knows-everything-except-me phobia).

Trackbacks

  1. […] should thank my brother’s fantastic girlfriend who BRILLIANTLY thought to herself, “What’s the best gift for a self-absorbed yet low […]

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