This is my first attempt at an anonymous blog. I've been working as a pharmacist for a busy retail chain store for a little less than a year, and in that time, I've accumulated a lifetime's worth of stories about idiotic customers, insurance companies, drug companies, etc. Since that stupid pharmacy has dominated the last year of my life, I haven't had much chance to share my ridiculous thoughts, so I figured this would be the place. The blog will probably start out slow as I search for topics to discuss, but fear not, give me a couple weeks, and I'm sure I'll gain a full head of steam.
Let me start my first blog post on a non-pharmacy related topic:
I'm single. I've been single for a little less than 2 years coming off of a 5 and 1/2 year relationship with a girl I thought I would marry. Not getting into specifics (I'll save that for another time), she went to Law School, thought to herself that she's rather hang out with scumbag lawyers who spend big bucks wining and dining clients at "hip" downtown bars and clubs instead of being with a regular, down-to-earth, pharmacist-to-be like myself. Am I bitter? Yeah, a little bit.
Anyway... Like I said before, I've been single for nearly 2 years. I also haven't been laid in that same amount of time. Now, on almost every level, this doesn't make a lot of sense. I'm not socially awkward. I'm only as weird as the next guy. I'm not bad looking. I'm in good shape. I'm intelligent. I have a good job. I have a 6-figure salary, and a nice car. I have a nice, thick head of hair. On paper, I should be batting the girls away with a stick. In reality, I get nothing.
You know what though? I'm almost alright with that. I suppose I've never been smooth with the ladies, so I never expected to have beautiful women throwing themselves at me. What really gets to me is when I'm out somewhere (grocery store, mall, movies, wherever) and I set my eyes on a drop dead gorgeous example of the opposite sex. You know, the type that makes you just stop for a moment and mutter "damn" under your breath. Then my gaze shift over a couple feet and see her standing with some pasty white guy wearing a wife-beater and torn up jeans, who looks like he hasn't shaved or bathed in 2 weeks. Without fail, the guy is driving a circa 1990 Honda Civic with a missing hubcap on at least 1 wheel.
Compare and contrast here.
Me: Clean cut. Clean shaven. Athletically built. Wearing bananarepublic clothes. Driving a luxury car. Got cash to spare.
Him: Just think Kurt Kobain without the talent or money.
If the guy treated her incredibly, it would be one thing. Most of the time, these pasty white scumbags treat women like shit. However, they never seem to be without a hot young girl on their arms. This made me realize what seems to be the key to dealing with women. It doesn't matter if you wear a wife beater, just as long as you wear it with confidence.
I honestly can't think of another explanation.