By Brody and Fowler
The four types of men that haunt every girl’s life and ruin her perfectly thought out course of action.
Norton. I’m talking Edward Norton. There is just something about him that I can’t put my finger on. Not particularly my type, but there is something attractive about him. There is always that one guy, who for whatever reason, when spotted will turn your face 23 shades of red. I don’t have many “Norton’s”, but when I do it’s a doosey. On occasion we get a specific UPS guy that delivers to our office, who sorta, as luck would have it, looks like Edward Norton. I am not the kind of girl who usually loses her composure, so when this UPS guy first showed up at the office, my co workers were utterly amused and delighted to see my unusual reaction of turning fire engine red. So much amused, in fact, that they would send him around the building each and every time to locate me to sign for the delivery. As the girl who doesn’t like to loose her composure, I had to be in the presence of said Norton as little as possible. So I'd sign for the delivery as fast as humanly possible and minimal eye contact and zero verbal communication. He must have thought I was some sort of rude anti-Christ. As the years progressed, and I’d find Norton somewhere around the building walking my way, thanks to my great friend and co worker who loved to see my face when this event occurred. Nowadays, I have gotten as used to this particular Norton as much someone can. I now just allow myself to turn beat red, sign for the delivery and smile and tell him to have a nice day. He smiles back, with a smirk indicating that he knows something is amuck, but maybe not quite sure what.
Kryptonite. You know the type. Hot. I’m talking ridiculously hot. This is
the type of man that a girl does just about anything to stay away from (or at least possess some sort of knowledge that she knows she should). He’s not good for you in any way, shape or form- yet there is an uncontrollable attraction. He’s irresponsible, employment challenged, a complete womanizer, dons at least a few tattoos, possibly has a criminal record, a pony tail and occasionally a “baby mama” or two. It’s clear from the start that nothing good could come from any encounter with this man, but you can’t seem to help it, because he’s kryptonite. In his presence you are too weak to rationalize the situation and remove yourself from it. You’re apt to go along with whatever Kryptonite is up for. The general rules that apply to most men don’t apply to him. Kryptonite can get away with more than most men ever could. He doesn’t call when he says he’s going to, and usually never follows through on promises, yet you can’t stay mad at him. His Kryptonic eyes and smile will make you melt into complete submission making you forget why you were ever mad at him in the first place.
Perfect on Paper. Smart, Check. Funny, Check. Good looking with great manners, check. Owns his own car, buys you dinner, has a great job, sends you flowers for no reason… Check Check Check!!! But…No butterflies, no sparks, no danger, no panties flying off when he says your name or winks at you, no putting on extra perfume just cause you’re sweating from nerves, no checking in the mirror 150 times to see you look the exact same, nada. It’s a no go. This is the man your mother thinks you should marry, in fact she pleads with you to find some sense and prays in not only your religion, but in every other one she can find that you make her grandchildren with him as well! She has the date set, the invitations for your wedding picked out, hell the printer is on notice, this is her dream guy for you… He’s perfect on paper and generally in every situation you can think of, but somehow, he’s not for you... What went wrong here? Where is the spark? Where is the flame? It has to be around here somewhere, did I misplace it in my car, is it lost in the bottom of my purse with my lipstick? What did I do with it??
This is the guy you French kiss a thousand times digging deep to clear your mind and focus on finding the spark that will make this perfect man be a must have only to find that you ultimately make out your entire grocery list, plan your next day, rearrange your furniture to Feng Shui your life and mentally check to see which shows are set to record on your DVR... By all accounts, you and POP should line up perfectly, but you don’t. It’s like a rubix cube, and you just can’t get all of the colors to match up. Even if you attempted to take off the stickers and rearrange them manually, it still wouldn’t work; they would just peel and fall off… don’t even think about gluing them either, you’ll just end up stuck to the proof that Karma is such a B word and she has it out for you! This is the guy that is sort of the filler food, the safe zone, the I should really like him but that loser over there with the tattoos and no job makes me want to walk off and leave him guy… This is the prison on planet bullshit which is in fact the perfect man that does absolutely nothing for you except for teach you how you should be treated in order for you to totally disregard it for someone with no sense! You search, you try, hell you go on dates, you watch countless movies, you fake smile, you fake laugh, please dear Lord if you fake anything else just shake your head, it’s ok, it’s part of the process… You search everywhere high and low only to the dismay of your mother and your forehead from where you’ve banged it against the wall… We’d like to place a want ad for some spark, if anyone knows where this spark is, please let us know asap! We would be glad to send you a self addressed stamped envelope and you can pop it in the nearest post box. We would greatly appreciate it.
The Muffin. Have you seen the muffin man? He’s somewhere off of Druiry Lane, which you can never get to of course, no matter what you do. Maybe, it’s because Druiry lane is not meant to exist for you- at least not in this lifetime anyway. He is… well… amazing in every way. So much that you would like to hate him, but you can’t. Each time you talk to him, he becomes even more amazing. The man that at some point in your life set the bar so high with whatever he did that all who came after would love to beat him to a pulp! The Muffin Man is the mythical creature that got away, the one that no matter where he goes, no matter what he does he will always be your true north, home, silence and peace. He’s the one that makes you scream in your car and honk your horn with your hands while simultaneously crying and singing along to your song… the one who if it’s been 25 years can say hi and you’re right back where you started, the eternal butterfly in your stomach maker, the one who can kiss you and make your toes curl up to touch your arse, the one who can brush your arms and give you chills, the ache in your soul that makes it impossible to breathe.
He’s your Paul Allen of American Psycho. His business card is better than yours, bearing the infamous watermark and at times you’re compelled to start laying down the style sections to cover your carpet and lecture him on Huey Lewis and the News- It’s hip to be square in your rain slicker. He’s everything you ever wanted, and he’s not yours. He’s unattainable. He’s either engaged or married or somehow otherwise unavailable thanks to the universe making it number one priority to mock you. Each time you see him you are more smitten than the last (is that even possible?). You remember when and where you first met, every conversation you’ve have, and well, every word he’s practically ever uttered to you. He is everything from a modern day romantic, yet tragic Jane Austen Novel. I’m talking full on Willaby here. Even worse, he’s kind and interesting and makes you want to be a better person.
Ok, enough with the sap and lets go a little deeper. The Muffin is enough to make even the most refined lady step into psycho. This bastard is the reason you’re a crazy bitch who by all outside appearances has it all together, you dress sharp, you’re intelligent, you’re going great in your career, you have it all going for you… you’re on top of your game right? Yea… one mention of this person makes the horns grow, the fangs appear, the eye twitch, the tear ducts to work overtime and your body to fling into convulsions usually involving arm gestures and aerobic exercise jumps while screaming out your hatred… (or I’m a little more crazy than you are, it’s ok… I own it, French kiss it and tuck it in at night… don’t be frightened).
Daily life all of a sudden is a constant reminder of him somehow, and you are slightly convinced (although you would never admit it to anyone but your overly understanding bestie) that there has to be a conspiracy of some sort or maybe your even the focus of some reality show being broadcast from a distant planet – surely it’s a hit somewhere in the universe and they are all laughing. Someone has to.
You try to avoid the Muffin, but he just pops around every corner it seems. He is the rare soul connect that you know when he is in the building or lingering around the corner, because you can just sense it. To add insult to injury, the Muffin is usually armed with his significant other, aka green cafeteria jello with suspended peaches. She is nothing you would expect her to be. You can’t help but wonder why he would choose green jello when tiramisu was clearly on the menu. One thing is for certain about the Muffin- his green jello with suspended peaches better be good to him. She better be everything he wants and needs her to be. If she knows what’s good for her.
The Muffin is rather permanent, unfortunately. There is nothing all you can do to get over him. One can attempt anything form an exorcism to a muffinectomey (a lobotomy that numbs the muffin part of the brain). He’s permanent, like a tattoo imprinted on your psyche and no amount of tantrums or tears will remedy the situation.
The Muffin Man is the person who touched your soul and if you didn’t have the fortune of marrying said Muffin, you lost him. Maybe at the time it didn’t seem like a loss, maybe you were young and stupid, maybe you were angry and didn’t give a crap, maybe he walked because you didn’t have yourself in order or maybe you were unlucky in time and chance passed by. Unfortunately one of us stood there with a smile of encouragement and a hug and watched him leave without ever having the courage to even say a word, while the other sat there and watched him slip away slowly, too afraid to . So, today, the moral of the story is that Muffins are the devil and if you’re going through it, welcome to hell! Say something if it’s not too late! Voodoo doll if it is… Unfortunately for us, most muffins passed up the Crème Brule and ended up with green jello.
P.S.- Dear Muffin, I love you.
By Jenny B. and Jenn Fowler