Ok, so I made a bet with God and lost. I gave up talking to a boxman I have a crush on for Lent. The idea was, if I quit talking to him for forty days, maybe I could break the emotional attatchment to him.
The results? It backfired on me. I found myself thinking about him more than ever. I started to get depressed. Finally, last Saturday, I threw in the towel. I opted for a charitable donation- two hundred dollars to the American Diabetes Association- his choice of charity. And saying the Jesus Prayer three hundred times a day to help get my feelings for him under control.
I’m doing much better now, thanks. I’m not thinking about him as much (although still probably more than is good for my mental health, but there seems to be a gradual decrease in the amount of time that he occupies my thoughts.)
The moral of the story, don’t give up the companionship of a friend for Lent. You’ll do yourself more harm than good.
I hope y’all haven’t completely lost respect for me.
“Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no substitute for a good blaster at your side.” — Han Solo
That’s right! You’re the blackjack dealer, right? I couldn’t put my finger on what you were talking about for a minute there, I kept seeing the UPS man or something. No, I don’t think less of you, I’ve almost never made it through Lent sticking to what I gave up. Yours must have been especially hard since you had to see him almost every day!
“That’s impossible! Cartman doesn’t know a rainforest from a Pop-Tart!”
“Yes I do! Pop-Tarts are frosted!”
Well, actually, I’m a craps dealer in temporary exile in the blackjack pit. My pit boss wants me to learn all the games, in order to serve his nefarious purposes. But yes, I do see my beloved boxman pretty much everyday. Glad you don’t think any less of me.
“Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no substitute for a good blaster at your side.” — Han Solo
The sisters back at Immaculate Heart Convent must be really impressed.
Homepage: http://www.bigfuckinboatwithbadassplanes.mil
Occupation: Swabbie Pounder, First Class
Location: Anywhere you feckless landlubbers ain’t.
Interests: Navy Chow, Port of Call, The Head, Air Superiority
ICQ Number: CVN69 – An UncleBeer Profile
“Avast and ahoy, landlubbers! Shore leave’s in August. Hide your women.” – A WallySig
[quote]
A boxman is the guy who sits between the dealers on a craps table, pretending to run the game.**
For a minute there I thought you were telling us, in what seemed a very casual fashion, that you’re falling in love with a safecracker. That would have made it the damndest post I’ve ever seen.
Just to almost be serious for a moment, I’ll follow follsguinea’s question: If he’s a nice guy and you like him, why would you want to give up thinking about him? (Unless one or both of you are already committed, of course.)
Tomndeb-
He’s married. Therefore, I’ve been breaking the Ninth Commandment, “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbors lawfully wedded spouse.”
foolsguinea- there’s nothing wrong with him. Absolutely nothing. He’s a sweet, kind, patient, gentle, highly moral and altogether decent human being. I don’t necessarily want to give up thinking about him altogether. I just don’t want him to dominate my thoughts twenty four hours a day, seven days a week…
Thing is, I sort of had this thing under control until I quit talking to him. Now that I’m talking to him again, I’m not thinking about him nearly so much. Which is good. Saves hard drive space for other things, like the fact that I’m in the process of learning six new games. I have to. The boss won’t transfer me back to the craps pit ( there’s an image for you to contemplate ) until I’ve learned them all.
“Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no substitute for a good blaster at your side.” — Han Solo
And all I gave up for Lent was eating lunch out, and donating the saved money to the poor box at church. Oh, and meat at breakfast. (No bacon or ham for 7 weeks)
Actually, I’m pretty sure it specifically says “wife,” not “spouse.” Unless you’re looking at some new touchy-feely New-Agey no-sexist-terminology translation. So if you’re coveting someone’s husband, you’re not breaking the Ninth Commandment.
Of course, since the Bible says that if you commit a sin in your heart, you have committed it in deed (which always struck me as a really rotten rule), you could be on the hook for whichever commandment forbids adultery (depending on just what you’ve been thinking about).
Chef
'salright, I’ve already been to confession and been absolved for, um, committing adultry in my heart. The point of giving him up for Lent is to not commit adultry in my heart with (or without, as the case may be) him. Anyhoo, I’ve pretty well quit doing it now.
“Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no substitute for a good blaster at your side.” — Han Solo
agisofia, Of course we don’t think any less of you for trying to do the honorable thing and end an improper emotional level of feeling. But you should try to remember the old cliche’s. ‘Absense makes the heart grow fonder’ Which sounds trite, and often cynically claimed to be false. It is true, but only when people don’t really know each other yet and it is but fondness felt.
Next time, try comeing up with something easier to give up for Lent, like not thinking about elephants, or beartraps…and then just give up eating brussel sprouts.
—Narile (Who gave up Lent for Lent, so much easier that way.)
>>Being Chaotic Evil means never having to say your sorry…unless the other guy is bigger than you.<<
He already knows. He was very sweet, ignoring me the whole month, not sitting near me in the lunch room, not smiling at me (well, he did smile at me once, but I smiled first.) He was teasing me because when I finally cracked, I really only had four days of working with him to go- he’s off on vacation this week. But why torture myself unnecessarily for an additional four days.
“Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no substitute for a good blaster at your side.” — Han Solo
No, I don’t think less of you, I’ve almost never made it through Lent sticking to what I gave up. Yours must have been especially hard since you had to see him almost every day!
Oh, and meat at breakfast. (No bacon or ham for 7 weeks)