Brood Wars

I'm not one to rest on my laurels. No. If anything I'd describe myself as lounging on them, with the occasional loaf thrown in for good measure. But what is it... almost the second week of April? And even though today's post has nothing to do with working, driving to work, or not working (except for the fact that I'm posting it from work maybe...) I feel it's time to move on.

Here's the issue that's been bothering me lately. I'm a terrible brooder. Really, I suck at it. Not in the creating offspring sense (though that would also be perfectly fine for a few years), but in the "I'm so misunderstood/No, I just can't let anyone inside/So unapproachable" sense. It's a very valuable "leave me the hell alone" skill.

I have to admit that while I often remark on how remarkably good looking I am, this is all just a facade of white noise to mask my utter inadequacy in the area of brooding. I hear you already, "But Scott, it's true; you are good looking!" Well, of course it is. But I play it up even more so I don't have to think how completely and utterly attractive I am to people I often don't wish to speak to.

For example, I found myself attempting to do some serious brooding at my local Megalo-Mart this morning. Despite my thousand yard stare, my furrowed brow, and my intimidating physique, I was interrupted by no less than three people while waiting on my car's oil change.

The first was a middle aged lady asked if the seat next to me was taken and proceeded to make fumbling attempts at chit-chat*. The second was another middle aged woman, obviously from out of town asking me if I knew where Canton**, the local Chinese restaurant, is. And finally, and most ridiculously, I was approached by the Croc-clad fag-hag of a gay, goth kid in Cowtown, IL. She informed me that her 15-year-old, overweight, homosexual version of John Constantine thought I was cute while he shyly waved.

Damn it people, I know I'm cute. I think we've established that. But just how the hell do you expect me to get in any "being unapproachable" practice in if you keep coming up to me? I even had my iPod in and sunglasses on, which is cruise-control for cashed-out.

So I implore you, good readers, lend me your secrets of the art of brooding. And if you're a female and feel that brooding is too manly, give me your pouting tips. It's basically the same thing, with a slightly different vibe. Hopefully next time I'll be so imposing no one will talk to me and I won't have to go take a nap in the Lawn and Garden section.

- Scott

* Which is annoying because, I'm like... just this guy, you know? You don't have to be nervous around me and you do not have to talk to me.

** She was also informed to ask for Jayne when she got there, and to perhaps order the Hero of Canton Platter. (Seriously. She probably did this, to the confusion of all involved.)