I'm a sucker for the grand gesture.
You know? That thing a guy does that sweeps you off your feet? Right. That thing.
Like when I was in elementary school, a guy who liked me did all my yard chores -- while making his friends wait for him to play baseball.
Or in high school, a guy I'd met only once walked six miles to give me a birthday present. It was the Led Zepplin IV album -- the one I really, really wanted.
Or years later when a guy surprised me with a weekend away and took care of all the arrangements including childcare for my child.
The problem with the grand gesture is that it isn't necessarily a knight's errand. It can be an empty display meant to camouflage any of a number of sins.
Example: I've travelled all the way from XXX to see you but now I'm broke so can I borrow a few bucks?
Care to offer a guess as to whether the loan is ever repaid?
Because I am such a sucker for the grand gesture -- it fills me with ridiculous girlhood thoughts of true love -- I try to overlook the obvious self-interest of such a not-so-grand gesture.
This gets me into trouble.
Lots and lots of trouble.
I know. You're saying that I should smarten up. That there are plenty of nice guys out there who are a little less flamboyant but who would offer love, dedication and stability.
If you say so.
I mean, I've heard the rumours.
But, in my life, they are like unicorns.
Just kidding. I know unicorns are extinct.
Nanowrimo Week 3: Act II, Part 2
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