Sorry, You're Not My Type

A Story by Jofer Serapio

An old article in high school

When guys go someplace new to them, a majority looks out for pretty faces. Never mind the familiar ones; we need a fresh start to make a good impression.

In places of frolic, lots of girls surface. Guys either stand around looking at those that pass by him or stroll along hoping to bump into an angel. After several minutes later, after gawking the incomparable beauty of femininity with the lot that he had seen, he sees a girl like no other. A perfect beauty! That long and silky black hair, her sweet smile, that fair skin, accompanied by a holy grace and an angelic aura, is she real or a mirage? She’s so perfect in any way and every way. The fact that she’s alone helps out a lot.

He feels the urge to talk to her, to be with her, or to just follow her like a puppy. But he doesn’t have the courage. After all, they are both total strangers. What if she was his cousin that he didn’t know about? That would be so weird, so strange, and so stupid. He finally makes up his mind and gathers all his courage to approach the girl.

Step by step, he could feel his feet weighing him down like they’ve gotten a million pounds bigger, like clown feet. Just then, he gets close. Close enough that he can smell her perfume. Issey Miyake, a sophisticated girl perhaps? No, wait! It smells more like Ellipse. She’s sporty, no doubt. He gets enticed by her scent that he blocks out outside interference. All he could ever think about is the scent and the girl. He longs to hug her. He can’t if he wants to keep his integrity.

“Excuse me?” the girl turns around just in time to see the guy sniffing her neck. Caught surprised, he takes a step aback and mumbles something only Mahal would say. The girl smiles at him. He smiles back. He could feel his heart racing, pounding like a jackhammer. Suddenly, his stomach turns. He feels this stinking feeling like his stomach is swallowing itself. This must be love, he thinks. No, wait! Must be the pizza I had earlier, hope I don’t fart, he thinks again.

“Hi! Ari ka gali?” he blurts out, loud enough to be heard by those passing by. He blushes. Dope! What a stupid thing to say, he says to himself. Surprisingly, well not really, the girl laughs. She laughs like an actress, shy to hide her mouth. Not that she has bad breath. Her breath actually smells like a Close-Up commercial. He laughs too; trying hard to look cool even though he looks stupid wearing that retro shirt with the black slacks.

After a while, they both got tired of laughing like retards. He positions himself close to her, ready for the formality that is the introductions.

“I’m Gay. What’s your name?” she goes first. She’s gay, damn, he thinks disgusted from what he just heard. How could she be gay? She has big enough fun bags.

“You’re gay? I’m not!” He blurts out, ready to run away from the peculiar scene. She laughs back, hard. She was real. Not like those girls who laugh with a script.

“No, I’m not gay. I meant my name is Gay. What about yours?” she smiled, intently. He feels relieved. That was close, he thinks again.

“I’m Bobby.” He says and smiles. They talked about each other’s personal data which included their hobbies, desires, and etcetera. He feels so comfortable around her that just after 15 minutes, he thinks of asking her out. He fears rejection, who doesn’t? Stop lying. He finally bites his lips and goes for it.

“Hey, how about going out with me this Friday? I know a good place where we could make, I mean, hang-out.” He says, light headed from feeling in love. This is it! This is the moment where he would go out with a beautiful girl! His first time! Yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,yes,

“No! I’m sorry but you’re not my type. We could stay as friends, though.” She smiles… Ouch!

D****t! His whole world crumbles before him. The sky falls down, straight at his head. He wished that a piano would fall on him, not the sky. Then he’d have a coma. Oh he’d wish he’d have that freakin’ coma!!!

To newbie guys in the dating world, rejection is a guillotine. To others, rejection is just an obstacle. Rejection is painful, as miniscule or gargantuan, it still hurts that bad.

However, one must not take rejection that serious. After all, love is all about the heart. It doesn’t mean that if you’re rejected, you won’t find another girl. Besides, love is almost non-existent. Let us see, some say, “Love is blind”. Others, “love can see beneath the soul”. So, what’s the real deal? If love’s description doesn’t have one true self and is not the same all throughout, then where’s the freakin’ coma?!#