For Jenni's Eyes (Please Avert Your Eyes If Wrong Address)

So, you're interested in a taller gentleman

Firstly let me say CONGRATULATIONS, your interest in a taller gentleman is greatly appreciated. Most persons are apprehensive about dating or being seen with taller men as the assumption is that every man over 6'1 is a NBA player. This is the first line of prejudice that taller gentlemen have been struggling to overcome for the past 2 decades. Not every tall man is a basketball player, some are Abraham Lincoln others are ninjas.



Examples of Tall Men Professions


We're certain that you wish to know what all are the benefits of checking a taller gentleman, so here is a short list

• tall men are horrible at math, so we tend to hold your purse as you hold our wallets
• our tears taste like 80% Milk chocolate or apple pie, depending on the region, which means if you're into S&M, date night will probably end in dessert.
   

This Gentlemen is enjoying a new tall man flavor, "Strawberry Cheese Cake"

• tall men can't cheat…except at Scrabble because of our awkward height it is almost impossible to carry on a clandestine relationship without you finding out, come on Jenni you know that me and you have to sit in the back of the theatre because I kept blocking the projector, i think the folks at Galleria will tell you if I'm there with out you (they don't let me get buttered popcorn without your written permission)
• sturdy shoulders make us excellent for companions at concerts or flooded basements
• not to brag but you know what they say about tall men and making babies' socks? That's right, its not a wives tale, we tall men all have the ability to knit

So we're happy to heat about your interest and welcome you to come to our officers to full out and application form to officially date your particular favorite Tall Gentleman *coughStephencough*

no name

"Why would i promise you a song? That's crazy…i don't think i'd ever do that because i'd be too ashamed to actually sing in front of you…that's some intense pressure"

no response.

"Is it the song thing? because it'll just be a discordant version of the happy birthday song…or a weird cover of Doug Funny's song to Patty Mayonnaise…sexy, sexy Patty Mayonnaise"

her eyes break from the tablet screen momentarily and lock with his; they're dark  and small, but the way they catch and devour the light makes them seem larger than they actually are. her glare with  pursed lips tells him he should be quiet, but when has he ever listened to the tingling in the back of his neck. his chest squeezes, there isn't enough room for the heart and its beating. maybe he can talk away the anxiousness

"I like your eyes…" real original Stephen; steal a line from a romance novel with Fabio on the cover…wait why were you reading Running From The Wind again? That seems a trite experimental sexually, what's next? Scented lotions? Slippery slope there buddy, slippery slope.

"You used my real name on your blog." the first thing she said and it was an accusation, she flips the device around to face him. there's her name as clear as he had typed it. "No wonder your friend looked at me all…weird when you introduced me…i'm the crazy girl in your fantasy world that you've got all your friends reading. i can't…."

Would she notice if he magicked half a slice of Dutch Chocolate Cake from behind his back, if only he had paid more attention in magic class, if only Dutch Chocolate Cake existed; don't look at her boobs…eyes up!

"I'm sorry?"

"…no its…i just feel…its weird having people know all about you when you've just met them and…"

buxom, bosomy, ample, stacked, built, a petite Rubenesque…and he's lost track as to what she's saying… his eyes move up her clavicle, clinical word for something far more sensual…focusing on her eyes he suddenly became obsessed with convincing both himself and her of the lie that he was not a man; he was a writer.

head nod, head nod, apologize for being so brazen? and brash? Would he tell her his regret for committing the obvious to the infinite paper that is the internet?

"I'm sorry, i won't ever tell anyone your name again?"

"…that's not what i…"

"burn the manuscripts; delete the blog?"

"No!" almost immediately…almost.

her hand is cold. he wondered if her ears were cold; they looked flushed; ruby tinted half moons that cupped her faced perfectly.

oh filthy terribly promiscuous things he wished to do to her and her ears, like take a hot water bottle  to her and bed time story. evidently his definition of the word promiscuity was the only thing risqué, floating around his head…as long as he kept his eyes on her angry eyes that were now back on her tablet. Not because they were the pouting petulant gaze of a spoilt child, but because she was an intense reader and dedicated to the brutal and vicious requirements of being an RSS subscriber to his blog.

"you hate it?"

"i hate being naked!"

"so i'm imagining that you have on clothes? Stupid brain." was that too much, she already is kinda upset about a sudden unexpected reveal that has left her exposed and now he completes the metaphor by conjuring the image of her form nude and draped in an innocent powder blue cloth that hid everything but the intellectual parts
"…i'm sorry i could have come up with a better punch line; then showers at your house must be an efficient endeavor, you can get your washing done the same time…" 

she hated the jokes and the thin facade of cocky cynicism, sometimes it came off as mean but it muted the terribly vulnerable things that made him seem like he was in grade 3 again when his best friend Anthony told Stacey that he liked her and she asked him if it was true and the pressure of a beating heart was so sharp and constant he could do nothing, say nothing just pretend he hadn't heard her and focus on the hand drawn i's on the chart about Mid-Atlantic Slave Trade.

"I'm sorry…I…i don't intend to make you uncomfortable, i'm just a bit of a jerk"

"you're not"

"well that means that one of us is lying and…"

the phone rings. she nods permission for him to answer, but that is seen after he has already made his decision. nothing worse than persons texting and checking their phones while mid conversation but anything to escape the beating in his own chest.

"hello. yes. i'm busy right now. what am i doing?" he looks at her, this is the moment when he says the exact right thing…will he?

"i'm hanging out with Philip. Of course you never heard of Philip before, i've only just invented him Jasper, byeeee." hangs up on the extended "e" she's smiling a bit.

"I think your sister knows who i am"

"Does she?"

"Philip? That's my spy like code name?"

"I think you're an attractive Philip, much sexier than any of the Philip's I've ever met."

"So there are others?" her gaze is relentless.

"Yes, but i've never wanted to kiss a Philip this bad that it took all my self control…"

"but you have wanted to kiss a Philip?" she's still smiling, the grin has gotten wider and more toothy

"yes this Philip…with her naked lips and curt tongue"

"#Pause Stephen; my tongue is not short and aggressive and maybe i should grow a mustache to ward off attacks from wild writers?"

"Yes Philip…grow a long thick Freddie Mercury mustache and then we'll see…"

she pushes his face away, it's been creeping in, despite his promise to never lean in, even if his pen is on her lap he was not to lean in. its a playful shove and he welcomes the feel of her cold fingers on his burning face.

"you're blushing…and don't you owe me a song?"

im really sorry about what ever stupid things i've said or committed to paper

My mouth works better when it's closed.

At least that's what the "Customer Survey" and "Performance Reviews" from the 3 people I've kissed said.

...wait we aren't counting non human face touching or incidental straw sharing as romantic gestures? (I don't wanna live in this world any more.)

Alright it's what the 1 person that I've made out with said.

By the way if you're reading this on a computer it should be read to Kanye West's "I Wonder" which is the song that I was completely ready to go all Say Anything and stand outside your house with my laptop and this song blaring but...its after 12am on Sunday night and i think that your Aunt would probably call the police, so i will totally just light her rose bushes on fire, as it is the international symbol of romantic gestures.

...wow i forgot this Kanye song has cursing in it, you may want to turn it down a bit.

I miss you stalking me and threatening to hit me with things and...(all of that sounds really weird out of context, its not that we don't have a good relationship its just sounds weird on paper and i'm not helping)

...the 20 minutes that you stopped talking to me on Sunday night because you were upset with me were perhaps some of the longest moments ever.

Like for real, i know it was only 20 minutes but i got through the first Lord Of The Rings movie...and that's not to say that i was busy having fun when we stopped talking...

...i didn't have fun until the paintball fight after dinner (there was time for a paintball fight it was that long). But even as i sat there surrounded by mounds and mounds of Chocolate crusted cheese cake cupcakes served by topless Kerry Washington* and Megan Good I was thinking "Jenni would so punch me right now if she knew what I was doing...having seconds of this dessert without her"

hmmmm...i guess you are violent,

...wait i'm writing an apology. I'm  sorry and please make this 20 minutes end, and although i'm prolly going to say something really stupid again first thing tomorrow morning I'm begging your forgiveness in advance and I offer you this quote from the singer of our Generation, Adele (...well more your generation) to let you know how i truly feel.

"if ever you doubt i love you, remember i would kill an innocent animal like a sheep or a goat and sprinkle your doorway with blood to let you know my heart doesn't work with out you"

-Set Fire To The Rain (5th Stanza)

:( i'm sorry

*See i was listening.

Notes on talking to your girlfriend...or at least how i talk to your girlfriend #Shrugs

Don't tell the pretty girl that's she's pretty. 

She knows it. 

There is nothing that she can do about it. you think that she wants to be this pretty?! Stop reminding her! If it was something that she could change like her shoes and dress and hair then sure feel free to compliment her, those things speak to her character, she is willing to add or take away  (or in the case of hair... sew) in order to improve herself. She sees a deficiency (how in the world she finds those things...but yea)  

When you tell her that she is perfect and that you wouldn't change a thing about her its almost racist. You've latched on to the one thing that she can't change, that she has no control over. Do you constantly remind the pale Celtic that they the sun has a vendetta to kill them? Do you remind your sister that she sucks at driving? What about people from Long Island...do you tell them that their voice get really shrieky when they're upset ? No, you don't! Because they'll get upset and then shrieky and then your ears will bleed. 

So why would you tell her, over and over again that you think she is the most beautiful woman in the whole world? That your perspective of beauty changes depending on her and that you're beginning to worry that it has nothing to do with physical appearances cus you liked her in that yellow tube top and that time that she was so sick that she wouldn't come from under her blanket till like 4pm. You didn't even see her that time...just her fuzzy blanket!! YOU SPENT THE DAY FANTASIZING ABOUT A BLANKET!!! 

Only the Lord could help us if she suddenly lost an arm because you'd start to think that only amputees are attractive which would completely throw off the modelling opportunities for 2 armed girls. In short...
 
don't tell her she's pretty, 

she knows, 

she can't help it.

Just ask her about her day...she'll appreciate that more.

The Secret Life of Bahamian Media; Speculative Fiction

Believe it or not, but there was once a time newspapers were popular, this was of course a while ago somewhere in the late 90's or as my wife likes to refer to it as "in the year King Uzziah died"(yes i've used that joke before...deal with it) . Although some social analysis will tell you otherwise, the eventual death of the newspaper (and journalism for that matter) has little to do with media houses being unable to keep up with technology, although we must commend ZNS for always keeping their technology no further than 26years behind industry standard. The issue is perceived journalistic integrity and ethics or the lack there of. Well dear Spectrum reader, (all one of you), this paper is as ethical as it gets. We can not be bought by anyone, our virtue is not for sale, notwithstanding that last term we may have leased it for a bit, but no more. Just because we have an ad from Lugio Pizzaria and Tennis Court, does not mean that we will not report the hard hitting news, particularly when its a public concern and directly effects the College community. This is why our January issue our lead story was "Lugio Pizza Delivers on Deliciousness: Competition driven mad with envy".
Proof enough i think, but a strong sense of ethics i fear may only resolve half the problem, what about integrity? The other issue is the fact that the newspaper industry is built on the premise of speculative fiction, what is speculative fiction?

Well it is easiest if i give you an example. It is assumed that in the next two weeks someone will be killed, they will probably die in a non affluent neighborhood, etc, etc. so based on these common facts, instead of writing a brand new story every time someone dies we have a standard template that can simply be filled out with the relevant information.

eg.

Circle where applicable

On (insert date) a (young, old) man was (shot, shot by police, found in the bush) in the (Pinewood Gardens, Bain Town, Freeport) area multiple times until he died. The man, (Kevin, Nardo, Something Ethnic) was a (black, brown, mauve) complexion and (police suspect, onlookers suggest) that the death is (drug, domestic, bunberrist) related . The authorities are following several leads…

And that works.
You know it does, you've seen that exact story a thousand times. It only become problematic when applied to other areas of the news. Take for example a news story i wrote and reprinted every other month for the past 4 years.

Bay Street closed today due to raging, rapist mermaids. The capital's main through fair today fell victim to a suspicious group of mermaids. Onlookers watched in horror as buildings on the water's edge were gutted by merciless mermaids, destroying everything in their path. The police force stood helpless as they tried to contain the mermaids and protect the historic buildings of Old Nassau, but were impotent as no water was available to restrain the merfolk.

Now for the 20 something times i've printed that, no one ever noticed it sitting there on page 2 as a filler, but as a journalist i'm aware of the concept of speculative fiction. its only a matter of time before such an event happens, and when it does, the story is already ready, and what do you know, Bay Street caught on fire and all i had to do was switch out mermaids for fire and an automatic front page story, but people don't like speculative fiction.

They hate it when you have two versions of the same paper written the night before an election so that you can be the first one to drop the scoop, they hate it when accuse the wrong person of rape on the front page and then give a half a paragraph apology in a box under "1/2 off all Benjamin Moore non latex paint", and they really hate it when you report that a member of their family has died because you're a vulture too consumed on moving units to ever check your facts or practice investigative journalism. I'll admit that as student writer my research often doesn't pass 3 wikipedia pages, but recently it seems that i'm doing 3 times as much foot work as some folks.

"How To..." Chapter 1

How To Over Think a First Encounter and Ruin Your Chance With the Girl of Your Dreams:
The Concise Guide to Dying Alone and Miserable, For Attractive Over-Achieving Males

The writer, a 42 year native of Norman's Cay has battle with his obscene attractiveness for the past 30 years, and gives lectures throughout the leeward islands of the archipelago on overcoming the debilitating effects of coarse and debauched handsomeness.


Step One: Come On Too Strong,

According to your mother, "you're a handsome boy and any girl would be lucky to have you"  but even while your mum's pinch's imprint is still clear on your cheek, you feel that today you need something extra. You see today is the day. This is first time that you are meeting the girl of your dreams, and although you've never had a conversation with her , you know she is the girl of your dreams because you've check out her profile on Facebook (1). This was no easy feat seeing as  she blocked and reported you twice for inappropriate comments. Other persons may stop after getting a cease and desist order but you suffer from a severe case of over determination, and that's what women like. Women like a man who is determined.

NO ONE LIKES A QUITTER! (2)

There is always some mutual friend whose account that you can hack and find out what class she has on Monday. Now the ball is in your court, but its not enough to simply steal a couple lines from a Will Smith  movie while knocking all of the French textbooks out of her hand, hoping she digs your Ray Bands and super retro Hi-Top fade, no this girl is special, any liberal art major can pull off that look, you need to step it up to a whole other level. You've seen the movies and after school specials, what is it that women can't resist? Spectacles; women love spectacles, like a--like a child with astigmatism. When I was in school it was as simple as making a mix-tape of R Kelly songs(3) but that was of course a while ago, some where in the late 1990's, or as my younger, attractive wife like to refer to it as in the year King Uzziah died, which incidentally was also a hit song by Kelly during that time.


I know that today it is not as simple as it use to be to draw attention to yourself, it expected that you make an idiot of yourself, its called brand recognition.  How are you going to get her attention? You need to do some more research, find out what she likes, no detail is too mundane to ignore, ask around maybe he has a room mate or sister, find out things like What's her favorite brand of oatmeal?  What is her favorite  shade of green; teal or jade? What are her opinions on planned parenting? at first these seem like some pretty deep questions to ask about someone that you talking to for the first time (ever in life), but if you come to the table with this information she can't help but notice that you are serious about this relationship.

Now it isn't always possible to get this information as some family members can't be bought (4), at times like this you have to wing it. You've intercepted her on the way from the library to her french class which she is late for her mid-term test. You've quickly introduced yourself, telling her your name and she introduces herself as something that sounds oddly like an invented pseudonym, no matter, before she goes another foot you make your move. knock all the books out of her hand and get on one knee. from your back pocket pull out the the imitation cubic zirconium ring and ask her to marry you. Now honestly she probably won't  say yes, and in all truth, if she says yes you should run (5) but she will never forget you.




1 you've also checked your dream book, and your lucky numbers today are 11001

2 (unless i'm on the other team, then i do like a quitter. Shoot once in a very competitive game of Yatzee after a girl gave up i bought her dinner and even let her get some heavy petting in, what was her name? I don't kiss and tell-- your mother)

3 imagine Trèy Songz with facial hair and a Basketball Jersey over his church shirt. While that seems odd, you must appreciate the genius of the man that combined two archetypes of success in the ghetto, pastors and basketball players, this was perhaps most recognized in his double disc album The Lord Saved Me (Disc 1) To Style On Your Girl (Disc 2).

4 like Olive's sister, you'd think that $50.00 would be enough money to procure me a small article of clothing, but suddenly Ruby has a moral compass, but she won't give me back my money or at least an invoice so that i can keep a balance cheque book

5. A crazy guy is something girls can get over, at worst you're Tom Cruise at best your Johnny Depp, either way a guy wins. A crazy girl on the other hand is like…well its just creepy.