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Dear Breakup Girl,

I grew up in a small town as an outsider. I was a smart, shy, funny-looking kid in school. You know the type -- got picked on, no self-esteem, lousy at sports, blew the curve in class. Girls ignored me; guys laughed at me. I'm omitting the shameful details because they were pretty spectacular. Let's just say I was known to be one of the top ten social misfits in a school of 900. A guaranteed easy target for anyone. When I went to college, I remade myself to an extent: I never became Rico Suave, but I had some experiences that brought me out of my shell, both with girls and with life in general. I got real girlfriends (three of them, good experiences but they're over now) and a real best friend and found myself actually connecting with people.

Now, two years after college, I'm back in the same small town. It's unavoidable for now; I'm in a startup business with my father (with a big potential payoff) and living here is the only way I can try this. If and when it gets profitable, I'm outta here.

I never had much in common with the people here. My totally alienating elementary, middle, and high school experiences didn't endear many people to me or me to them. Without going into too many details or sounding too nasty, they're "hicks," and I'm not. I'm generalizing; I mean, there must be a few cool people around, but I don't have a clue how to meet them. The local "entertainment" makes my skin crawl: high school football games and a couple of redneck bars. (I mean, bars are bad enough, but bars full of redneck manly posturing...that was old in the fourth grade.) I'm the "nice guy" type too; anyone who got through what I went through without killing someone is a "nice" person. So, I pretty much suck at asking girls out, unless the circumstances are perfect. And they never are here, because I can't shake the feeling that most people in this town still think of me as that sucker loser wimpy nerd. The social circle that harassed me constantly is still well represented here, while the few people I managed to form some small connection with in school have since fled.

I'm not looking to start some whirlwind romance. For one thing, I couldn't fund it, and I know a broke man ain't that attractive. Money's tight because I'm spending all my time working on a business that doesn't pay yet. But even just a friend would be really nice now. I've had girls tell me I'm big-hearted, loving, and attractive even; I ditched the glasses, my skin cleared up, and I've done some interesting things. I've gone to London. I turned one rock show into an event that is still legendary in Syracuse four years later by having a show-stopping accident in the mosh pit. (I fell off the ceiling, got hit in the head with a heavy metal pipe, and walked away bleeding from the face. Turned the Lost Horizon from a loud-as-hell rock show into a room full of 300 people staring at me, with the only sound being the lead singer and sound man cursing me out. Still have the scar.)

I'm sick of this. What am I doing living my old, solitary life? How can I meet somebody? The only solution I can see is to get successful and leave here. (Or quit the business and leave, which I don't want to do.) In the meantime, damn, this sure is a lonely struggle.

--In Hell Again

Dear In Hell Again,

Oh, buddy. First of all, you better watch Freaks and Geeks tonight.

Now let's get you out of the house, though preferably not to the ceilings of rock concerts. While we're on that subject, I will say that I don't quite get what happened ... or quite how it seems to have made your list of Top Two Interesting Things I Did Last Century. I see why it would have been mortifying, especially against the psychological backdrop of the mosh/snakepit that was your school experience. But you're still cursing yourself out for this one? After how long? What are you making it mean? Please try to give yourself a break here -- try try try to chalk it up to "whoops!" rather than "lousy-at-sports spectacular misfit" -- even if legend won't.

Oh wait, you can't leave the house yet. First you have to read the article on shyness in the Jan/Feb 2000 issue of Psychology Today. Perhaps shyness is not your issue per se, but when I heard you say, "I pretty much suck at asking girls out, unless the circumstances are perfect ..." (not to mention the money issue, among other things) I thought immediately of the following passage in the article: "...The shy believe that anything they say has to come out perfect, sterling, supremely witty...they believe that everyone is watching and judging them...". I don't need to explain why this is self-defeating/self-[un]fulfilling (nor the fact that poor people date). IHA, is there anything you can do let yourself drop, gently, from this very high ceiling of standards? Look, Riley really messed up when he asked Buffy out. (He started following up on their plans to have a picnic -- a nice cheap date! -- only to realize that he'd never asked her in the first place ... "Did we actually have that conversation, or did I just rehearse it?" or something like that.) She went, they ate; later they kissed. Turns out his goof was way cuter than perfection.

Of course, you can't mess up with girls until you get out and meet some, so now let's work on that. I completely get that you're not amped to hang at Boor Bar. But I also really want [you] to believe that there are other folks -- friend material, girl- or otherwise -- marooned like you who just haven't written to me yet. And if you're plucky enough to start a business, you're plucky enough to dig them up.

To wit:

Wanna learn to cross-country ski? (I was "lousy at sports" throughout school, college even, and now I am a hockey player, competent skiier, and competitive weightlifter, so I don't want to hear it. In any case, do not -- repeat, do not -- underestimate the Internet/activities matrix as a superpowerful social resource.

Wanna put up a sign at the health food store that says, "Tired of high school football and lame bars? Let's start an Other Places to Go, Other People to Meet Club! E-mail me at..."? Might be a slow start, but you also might find a few folks with whom to share survival tactics, social circles.

Wanna... what else? You tell me. Think, as they say, outside of the box. And outside of the snakepit. I truly do not mean to dismiss or underestimate how much this town must echo with the sinister sounds of the nightmare years. Nor the fact that yes, it will take extra, active effort to make your social life into a successful startup. But you know, that article also mentions the folks the author calls "the cynically shy...people who have been rejected by their peers...they do not feel connected to others, and they are angry about it. They feel a sense of alienation...they adapt a stance of superiority as they drift away from others." I don't want you to date anyone who, like, bores you, but I also don't need to explain why this is self-defeating/self-[un]fulfilling.

So decide. Either stay, grit your teeth/thicken your skin and figure out how to suss out the kindred spirits -- or go and start over as strongly as you did in college. Look, sweetie, pain -- in its own twisted way -- is easy; just ask my mouth. But you know better than I that it got old in fourth grade.

Love,
Breakup Girl

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