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BRAD

Predicament of the ... Year: Brad's Party of V

Readers will recall that Brad's original predicament vaulted into Of the Week status the moment he recounted that the girl who wanted to hang out, hold hands, snuggle -- and just be friends -- went so far as to bake him a cake. (Thus serving up, for Brad, immense confusion, and for Breakup Girl, a veritable dessert tray of metaphors.). A week later, the frosting thickened, and our man B. got in trouble for being nice-guy-shoulder/pastry-chef -- not, say, Boyfriend -- for the women he desired. His unrequited cookie-baking had begun to take a toll-house on his will to love. THEN, Brad came back for BG-record-setting thirds, prompting a rather sugar-free response. And when last we heard from him, in a Denoument thus dubbed "Have Your Cake and Eat It IV The Last Time"Brad tested -- and shared-- a new recipe for romance!

Now, what better way to round out the year than to have Brad drop in once again!? Turns out he's traded in the baked good for the bon mot. Let's see what's happaned:

Dear Breakup Girl,

I just thought that you'd be interested in your 4-time Predicament of the Week's latest escapades. First of all, I'm still single. That doesn't really surprise me, and it's not packing as much of a punch as it used to. The thing that DID upset me was that I managed to acquire feelings for someone new....yes, another one, Breakup Girl. I developed another crush. A severe one. So let's see here -- I have a big crush on her, and she seems to like me all right. She even calls me "sexy," which is fairly humorous, because I can't imagine anyone calling me sexy and meaning it -- but she seems to. We hug A LOT (multiple times per day), and by "hug" I mean "embrace very, very tightly so that your bodies are pressed together very hard." Of COURSE that's just a friendly thing, I know. After all of this time, I really ought to know what's friendly, right? The "sexy" thing could even be friendly.

But NOT THE LOOK IN HER EYES. You know the look, I'm sure. You've seen it. The look that says "if you kissed me right now, I wouldn't fight you off." She had that look in her eyes after every hug. And we didn't just hug -- there were more "friend" things. We talked a lot, shared thoughts and feelings and secrets, and made each other smile. She told me that I was a wonderful, wonderful person who was one of two people who could make her smile no matter what.

So why didn't I kiss her? Well, guess who that other person was.

HER BOYFRIEND.

Mmmhmm. Yes. Her boyfriend. Because in my infinite wisdom, I picked a girl that has a boyfriend. What's more, they've been dating for a year. They're incredibly happy. So I didn't even want to CONSIDER breaking them up, but I DID want to tell her how I felt. So being the moron that I tend to be, I wrote a poem and read it in this poetry-reading thing in front of a lot of people that I used to go to school with. I left the stage in tears, and everyone loved it. She came up to me at intermission, tears in her eyes, and told me that the poem was incredible. She asked who it was about. I declined to tell her.

I wound up telling a mutual friend, who swore to keep it secret. Then I realized that I HAD to tell her that the poem was about her, and I went to her workplace to do so. Her boyfriend was there. He works there. He even shook my hand. (He thinks I'm wonderful, too. Wow, that makes things so much more fun.) I could tell by the way she was looking at me that something was wrong....

Backing up a bit here -- a month had elapsed between the reading and the time I'd decided to tell. In that time, I'd seen her a dozen times, and she'd been her normal self to me. This time, she was quiet and didn't want to talk to me. She said that she was about to go on break, and I asked if I could talk to her. "No," she said. "I'm going on break with John (her boyfriend)." The look in her eyes at that moment basically said to me, "I know, and I don't ever want to discuss it with you."

So what the hell, right? The poem sits unrevised from its rough form, and I'm moving on with my life again. It was a mistake for me to invest any feelings in her, and she apparently doesn't want verbal verification from me that the poem is indeed about her. She since has not spoken to me, and I haven't really made any extreme efforts to pull a conversation from her.

Was I wrong? Do you think she's repressing feelings for ME, and that maybe THAT is why she's acting the way she is? Or is it more likely that I've just scared her off, as I've scared off roughly a dozen other females before her? Geez, I didn't start out wanting to ask for advice, and now I am. Oh well....that's how it goes, isn't it?

Don't get me wrong -- I'm still happy, as I was before when I got those weights off of my back. To update on the girls that were weighing me down: Lynore was at the poetry reading. She tried to hug me. I didn't let her. She asked how I was doing. I said that I was fine. She told me that she wasn't doing so fine, but now that I was there, she was feeling better. I ignored the comment, and she just let it go. (Maybe I was being a bastard, but I know how she is now. I see her in a true light, and I know that she'd jump at a chance to drag me back down again.) Rachel finally called me back. She's happy with her Corvette-driving boyfriend. She's an alcoholic now, albeit an alcoholic in severe denial. They apparently have more sex than rabbits, too. But he has money. And that seems to make her content. She asked me if I wanted to go to a movie with her and her boyfriend sometime. I very bluntly said "no." She dropped it and asked me to keep in touch. For some reason (maybe I'm being a bastard here, too) I just can't seem to get overly motivated to call her. Oh, well. One less source of stress and emotional anguish, as I see it.

So anyway, I've rambled again. What do you think about the poem girl (who I'll call Kate)? Thanks again....I'd tell you to keep the web site kicking butt, but you do it without needing anyone to tell you. Love it.

-- Brad

P.S. As for the baking thing, I still have not produced one baked good since the Lynore incident. I haven't really had the heart or the reason to bake anything, I suppose. However, I cannot guarantee that you won't receive a package from UPS one day that contains chocolate chip bars...

Dear Brad,

First, thanks for the kind words. Second: PO Box 150214, Brooklyn NY, 11215. Plain brown wrapper advised, because our jolly UPS man may assume snacking privileges.

Second, you're not being a jerk about dodging those downer girls. I mean, be polite, of course, but you don't need their neediness. You're right about that. Bravo.

And about the rest. Well. Poetry, much like pastry, can go both ways. Depending on the circumstances, a gal is just as likely to say: "He wrote me a poem/baked me snickerdoodles ... <swoon!>" as she is to say, "He wrote me a poem/baked me snickerdoodles ... eeeeuuwww!" What the dilly? If you boys are baffled, I don't blame you. I know I've gone on and on about how baking a cake is building a loft is setting yourself up as The Help, not The One. And I'm not budging. But I see here an opportunity to finesse. Before you get out the sifter, thesaurus, etc., consider: do I have a hint that she likes me already? If not, just ask her to dinner. Start with a date, not arts and crafts. If you do cook something up, keep it simple. Nothing overwhelming or pretentious; preferably nothing French at all. Poetry should be brief, whimsical verse about a certain cutie patootie you'd like to get to know better, nothing more; pastry should not involve cheesecloth, more than one variety of flour, or small statues of a bride and groom. And finally, check the rest of your life, keeping in mind that (hate to say this) gender stereotypes die hard: if you make her adorable little cupcakes or quatrains, make sure she's also aware, somehow, that you're prepared to change a tire or deal with a glue trap, that there's also a stairmaster, a sun lamp, and some hand weights in your garret. Do you know what I mean?

Okay, that was more of a general Brad-inspired Informative Digression for everyone than it was particular insight into your situation. So. As for you. What do I think about Poem Girl/Poetrygate? First of all, yeah, she knows. I suspect that (good news) she has feelings for you, but (bad news) not as many feelings as she has for her boyfriend. She's avoiding you because she just doesn't want to deal with the conflict/confusion. Lousy for you, but fair enough.

Did you do the right thing -- or did you scare off someone who might have been content to remain friends? Aw, who knows. On the one hand, we all know: no poaching. On the other, The Guy At The End of the Bar might say that poetry is not poaching. He might say: heck, son, if you had that huge a crush, I'm not sure you'd have been able to withstand the sexy comments and googly eyes for much longer anyway. He might say: better to make a tactful, non-line-crossing, subtle (though still dramatic) statement than none at all. Better, even, to lose a friend than live with regret/whatif.

And Breakup Girl might say (you know what's coming): better, next time, to find a less complicated would-be relationship. Yes, relationships always come with complications included. But Brad, see if you can find one where the complications do not practically preclude the relationship. And better still, try to uncover some insight into why you might avoid women who are, oh, single. Or, oh, stable. Write some poetry about that, why dontcha. And bake yourself some brownies when you figure it out. Here's to the new year, Brad.

Love,
Breakup Girl

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