Other posts related to romance
Finding love in the frozen food section
Lincoln Adams | December 16, 2009 @ 7:02 pmSo I’m at the supermarket, slowly pushing my cart around and filling it up with my usual single man’s diet of Ramen Noodles and diet sodas. A twinge of sadness creeps over me as I pass through each aisle on my way to the checkout.
And then I noticed her.
She was a petite brunette, her long, thick hair tied back and bouncing gently off her shoulders. She had the prettiest doe shaped eyes I had ever seen, eyes that were currently scanning for items in the frozen food section. As she moved, she moved with a feminine grace, occasionally pushing back a lock of escaped hair with her fingers, as her pouty lips formed in a frown of someone who hadn’t found what she was looking for yet.
I had to tear my eyes away from gawking, but I could not stop looking at her. She was a complete stranger, and yet I wanted desperately, DESPERATELY to talk to her. Do I throw caution in the wind, and finally take the chance, or do I do what I have always done, which was steal occasional looks where I could without getting noticed, until I finally give up and with a heavy sigh check out my groceries, leave the store and go cry in my car for a few hours?
Frick it.
I walked up to her as slowly and casually as I could, completely terrified with my stomach in a vice-like knot. Suddenly, I was right next to her, pretending to scan for frozen foods but unable to see anything except her.
She noticed me and glanced my way, then went back to looking. Was that a smile?
I opened my mouth and started to speak, hoping to at least get the words out before stammering or stuttering.
“Um, hi.” I smiled.
She looked over at me again, her manner polite, but guarded. “Hi.”
“Listen, I’m sorry to bother you, but I just happened to notice you before and I was so floored by how beautiful you are that I just had to come to talk to you. I know I’m a stranger and all, but I would have regretted it deeply if I didn’t at least take the chance to say hello.”
“Oh…” She didn’t say anything for a moment as she processed what I had just said. Ah man, she thinks I’m a creep now. I knew it.
“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, I’ll leave you alone now.”
“No, it’s ok, I’m just… a little flattered.” She smiled sheepishly.
“Well listen, I’m just happy you didn’t scream or anything! Oh, I’m Lincoln.”
“I’m Sharon.” We shook hands.
“Ok, um, I think I broke the ice here, so… what do I do now?”
She smiled again. “Well, you could invite me out for coffee?”
“Oh! That sounds good, I love coffee, I drink it every day and stuff! Coffee’s great! I love coffee!”
She started giggling. “Ok, coffee it is.”
I thought quickly. “Ok, there’s a Starbucks just down the street, it’s as good a place as any. We could meet up there later if you’d like.”
“Sure, I just need to drop off my groceries at my place, and I can meet you there, say 3 o’ clock?”
“Awesome, honestly you really made my day.”
She smiled again. “You’re sweet. 3 o’ clock it is then. Oh, and it’s Lincoln, right?”
“Right.”
“Lincoln?”
“Yes?”
“LINCOLN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
The booming voice startled me, and suddenly I was at my desk at work again. It was my coworker.
“What..?” I asked, still in a daze.
“The phone’s ringing, get it please.”
Sigh. I picked up the phone. “Linc speaking.”
Tags: brunette, coworker, daydreaming, fantasy, groceries, romance, single, smile, starbucks, supermarket
Categories: Lincoln's Personal Log
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Whoever said women fall quickly in love was smoking serious crack
Lincoln Adams | December 1, 2008 @ 11:18 pmGenerally, it takes ten years for a woman to fall in love with a man. I’m serious people, this is science, look it up.
Things might move along a wee little faster though if you put some muscle into it and work 24/7 to get a girl to fall for you. Then perhaps after spending enough time, effort, money, (and then a little more money), and much sweating of blood and tears, she will finally deem you worthy of her love. Maybe.
But in the meantime you have to do all the heavy lifting, huffing and puffing your way into her heart, and if you’re a sensible enough guy you might start thinking somewhere along the way, “What woman short of Queen Esther herself would be worth all this aggravation?”
I mean really.
I look at creation and all I see is an ocean of women who are self centered, fickle, manipulative, ball crushing, man hating hell-beasts that were handcrafted in the bowels of perdition by the iniquitous and the vile.
But for most guys, they’re perfectly willing to traverse this minefield as long as it gets them the BOOTY. The acquisition of booty has therefore become the driving force of their existence. But for a Christian guy like me, it’s not the booty I want, it’s the luuuuuuuuuuuuurv. But women today, for whatever reason seem to be far more willing to give over their bodies than they are in giving over their hearts. Maybe it’s because they have no heart to begin with? 
I might indeed be the last of my kind, a guy who wants romance and love and lots of wubbly snuggles, but in this day and age, there seems to be no one left who can truly fulfill those needs. When I look at a girl, there never seems to be anything compelling about her that would make her worth the effort, or worth the chase. And the thing that really kills it for me is the utter lack of empathy. There’s just no warmth, no sense of caring, no concern about my life or interest in me as a person. If I poured out my heart to them they would be unmoved by it all. They just don’t care. They’re lukewarm, neither hot nor cold.
So why would I want to fight for a woman like that? You could be more beautiful than a setting sun, but if you have a heart of stone, if you give me absolutely no incentive to make it worth my while, why should I even bother? I’m the kind of guy who just wants to hear these words:
It’s hearing that kind of heart, that kind of passion that would tell me you’re worth fighting for, indeed worth moving even heaven and earth for. But I fear those words will never come.
Yeah, I think it’s time I gave up this silly dream of finding my soulmate and true love and whatnot, and finally moved on with my life, even if that means having to juice myself up with mega doses of Prozac just so I can numb out these feelings and keep them from consuming me.
Living the life of an emotional zombie has never looked better. 
Tags: christian, empathy, love, lukewarm, romance, soulmate, stardust, true love, woman, women, women suck, YouTube
Categories: Romance and Relationships
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Poll Results Are In: Women convinced I need them to be happy, men either disagree or like pie!
Lincoln Adams | October 20, 2008 @ 9:00 amThe results from my last poll (Should I stay single?) were pretty interesting: Only 20% thought I would be perfectly happy remaining single, 34% took the coward’s way out and mentioned their fondness for pie
, and 46% were convinced that I’d soon be doing 20 to life if I didn’t get myself a honey bunny soon.
The demographics were even more interesting: most of the ladies who voted felt that only the love of a good woman would bring me happiness, while most of the men opted for singlehood. Those who picked pie were roughly split between the 2 genders.
Conclusion: Women think I need them, while men think otherwise. Naturally, I side with the men. 
The truth is, as much as I might pine for a little coochie coo, I really don’t need you wimmins. Sure, it’d be nice to have a little squeeze toy I can play around with every now and then, but ultimately, the odds are very much against me in finding someone I could truly be happy with, and vice versa. In short, I think it’s better to be alone than to be with someone who was hell spawned by Satan.
Oddly enough, this kind of attitude generally makes me more attractive to the fairer sex. Women don’t seem to like men who are clingy and whine for wubsiness, but when we become more aloof and independent and could give a flying dinky winks whether girls like us or not, suddenly our hotness meter goes way up. It seems to be the paradox of romance: the more we want women, the less they want us, but the less we want women, the more they want us. Oy! 
Frankly though, I’d rather be the chasee than the chaser. There’s so much aggravation and misery involved in chasing after someone that she really has to gem of a woman to merit the trouble, and these days, they hardly seem to be worth it. There has to be something about a beautiful, single girl that can make me believe she’s a cut above the rest. Even if she has a rough exterior (because God knows I certainly do), if I discern that God truly lives in her heart, and the fruits of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22-26) is evident in her personality, then I’d move heaven and earth to win over her love.
So… anybody here like that? Yeah I didn’t think so. 
Tags: demographics, girl, God, happiness, love, personality, poll, romance, single, singlehood, Spirit, woman, women
Categories: Romance and Relationships
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The Double Edged Sword of Singlehood
Lincoln Adams | October 13, 2008 @ 9:23 pmI was reading a few quotes by Dr. Laurence J. Peter (the creator of the Peter Principle), and he had this to say about marriage (section in bold are mine):
A bachelor does not grow lonelier as the years pass by. He learns how to live with himself. He satisfies his unique social needs. His companions may consist of members of his own sex or of the opposite sex or any combination of the above. He may dream of the exceptional girl who could excite him to the point where he would give up all this, but while his standards are going up, the quality of what he can get is going down. The available choice of desirable prospective wives gets smaller day by day. As his competence in making a rational selection increases, the desirable selectees decrease.
To estimate his chances of success he looks at his married pals. Most are stalking girls at the office or sneaking off with others’ wives. He concludes that if married men have mistresses or look for sex and love outside of marriage he would not improve his situation by wedlock. A bachelor is a man who looks before he leaps – and then does not leap.
Yup. 
It does seem like no matter how desperate I get, my standards continue to rise higher and higher until they reach such insurmountable heights that no woman on Earth could ever possibly live up to it. I think part of the reason for this is because for each year that I continue to be deprived of wubs and snugglies, I end up wanting whatever romance that might come to be even more potent and meaningful just to make up for those lost years. In other words, I’d want whatever marriage or relationship I end up in to be worth the wait. And the longer I wait, the higher the bar goes.
I’m beginning to realize though that what I hope for has become nothing more than a pipe dream. After all, women are simply incapable of being able to offer the things I’m looking for, even itty-bitty little things like you know: friendship, love, respect, loyalty, and so on. Even when you pay ‘em for it (which is usually the case, marriage or not), the returns are rarely worth the investment.
And now it’s getting to the point now where I really just don’t care any more. With the sinking knowledge that I never will meet the girl of my dreams, I feel safe and content now in openly bashing this vile gender of the human race and exposing them for the dark, ghoulish souls of evil that they are. 
As Laurence Peter once said: “Marriage is a romance in which the hero dies in the first chapter.” Knowing this, I would prefer instead to be the hero who survives well beyond the first chapter, riding off into the sunset on his Harley as he moves on to yet another chapter in his life, even if he must ride… alone.
Tags: bachelor, girl of my dreams, laurence j peter, marriage, relationship, romance, singlehood, standards, women
Categories: Romance and Relationships
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Oprah’s Guests Makes Me Want To Break Stuff And Kill People
Lincoln Adams | July 18, 2008 @ 6:25 pmI have no idea when this crap aired, but evidently there was a show highlighting the dating woes of 30-something women, which somehow devolved into how Islam is great and we should all go ass up 5 times a day and change our names to Ahmed Akalahu Mukababah Habib Al Mulla Wulla (or some such 50 syllable name that’s guaranteed not to fit on a standard criminal rap sheet form.)
Before it did though, I managed to glean some interesting quotes:
Like many single women in America, Julie is no stranger to the dating scene — but finding dates isn’t always the problem. “It’s not that there are no men to date. It’s that I’m not meeting anyone that I’m attracted to. Nobody that I think is quality and worthy of me and what I have to offer and what I want to do.”
Evidently chiseled, flawless men programmed to hand over their balls and debit cards seem to be in low supply these days. Remember what I said about women looking for sperm donation rather than men? Well now:
Now Julie thinks marriage may not even be what she wants. Instead of waiting around for a husband, she’s considering having a child on her own. “I’m probably going to investigate an anonymous donor and do it artificially … I want it to be my own biological child,” she says.
Funny how that works. For these type of women, marriage is merely a means to an end, and once their REAL objective has been realized, the husband is promptly forgotten and expected to fade into obscurity. The very notion that he might still expect a little bit of companionship and affection after children enter the picture seems to completely baffle them. “I gave you children, isn’t that enough?!? Go away you pathetic sissy!”
Yeah, just can’t imagine why they’d have trouble finding a guy who’d go for a deal like this.
Then there’s the divorced Mommies:
Amy also realizes that a woman with kids isn’t what every guy is
looking for. “I don’t consider children baggage. I think they’re the
bonus piece to the set, but there are a lot of men who don’t see it
that way,” she says.
Mainly because some of us would prefer not to be the new Daddy to your little bastard children. Not that I have anything against the turdlings, it’s just that I grew up in an environment where everyone around me had “step” in front of their names, and the experience hasn’t exactly warmed me to the idea of taking on someone else’s kids. But that’s just me.
I have to tell you though, reading crap like this isn’t exactly filling me with hope here. I know I’m not much of a catch, but I’d need to have the engine of the space shuttle installed up my junky jongs just to reach the friggingly ridiculous high bar these whiny donkey hos set for us men. But that’s ok, in the spirit of equitable exchange they will be perfectly willing to give us… well… nothing.
And they say romance is dead. 
Tags: 30 something, children, dating, family, islam, marriage, oprah, romance, single, women suck
Categories: Romance and Relationships
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Why I Think God is a Big Meanie – Sometimes
Lincoln Adams | May 13, 2008 @ 9:30 pmOne of the reasons it’s been so difficult for me to find dates is because I don’t have a very active social life (which is to say, I have no social life whatsoever to speak of.) I used to have a close knit group of friends that carried me through high school and beyond college for a while, but eventually we began to drift apart for various reasons, until one day I found myself living the life of a loner again.
I was never one for attending social gatherings though so I could maybe gain some new friends, mainly because there were, well, people there. And I hated people.
Ok, I wouldn’t go so far as to say I hated them, maybe that I just didn’t get along…no I hated them.
Unfortunately, if I was ever gonna meet girls then I was gonna have to go where people were, sooner or later. With a mindset like this, it’s a small wonder why I was always holding out hope that I would meet someone at my job instead. After all, I’m forced to be here, and there were people here too, soooo….
For the longest time I used to entertain fantasies of meeting the girl of my dreams at work, so much that it started taking on a life of its own. I even nailed down what she would look like too: deeply tanned skin, big brown eyes, and luscious brown hair. She would be as sweet as an angel, maybe assigned somewhere close to me so we’d run into each other on a regular basis. Things would be strictly platonic at first, but before I knew it she would eventually warm up to me… and love would blossom out of nothing at all. 
Out of nothing at allllll….. Out of nothing at… *ahem* but anyways, that’s how I imagined it. From that we would eventually become engaged, get married, and live happily ever after. Oh how I prayed and begged God that this would all happen for real. My fantasies here were so vivid that I could have weaved a cheap romance novel out of it. Probably could have made some cash from selling it too. 
I had been churning over this latest fantasy of mine for a few months, when something weird happened: we got a new coworker assigned near us who had… deeply tanned skin, big brown eyes, and luscious brown hair. I swear you couldn’t make this stuff up. Our department doesn’t attract a lot of young workers to begin with, so just getting another coworker around my age would have been odd unto itself. She was a year older than me, but single and beautiful, and had a mellow, pleasant personality about her. In her previous job she worked with kids who suffered from various disabilities too. It was perfect! My dream was actually coming to life!
Except she hated me.
Well, she didn’t really hate me. She just had no interest in me whatsoever. I tried everything I could think of to woo her too, all in the futile hope that eventually, sooner or later, she would warm up to me in very much the same way her alter ego did in my fantasies. I kept her company when things got quiet during our late shifts. I helped her out whenever she needed to learn something about the job. I helped her find her keys when she had lost them and was freaking out over it, and at her request I burned dozens of her CDs into MP3s so she could use an MP3 player she bought for the gym (even though she didn’t have a computer). I changed my hairstyles, clothing, and yes, I’m ashamed to admit it, during my low points I even tried using TAG body spray (I’m suing those bastards for false advertising by the way.)
Yet despite all my efforts, when it came to asking her out to lunch, or even just coffee, she had no interest at all. The more she blew me off, the more I pined for her love. After a couple of months of this I eventually gave up. I decided I would continue being a nice guy as always, but I resigned myself to the fact that she would never be interested in me. I was just a pathetic loser who could never be good enough for her. My fantasy was not to be.
And that might have been the end of it, except that shortly afterwards she fell madly in love with another coworker, and within a few months they were engaged to be married. 
My fantasies were coming to life after all… but for somebody else. Honestly, mere words could not convey the state of my emotions as I watched some little bastard boy enjoy what I previously could only experience in my dreams. Every day I had to come in to work and see those two nuzzling noses or holding hands at a picnic table (just as I envisioned it), and it was all I could do to keep myself from screaming at the top of my lungs and stepping on the gas at a nearby red light hoping an 18 wheeler would plow into me.
The best though was when the wedding itself was soon coming up, and she asked me if I had any suggestions for wedding songs she could use. I ended up making a CD of what I considered to be my most favorite love songs, songs I probably would have picked for my own wedding too. From what I heard my CD turned out to be a big hit, though I wouldn’t know, since I wasn’t invited.
I’m not one for bitterness though, so here’s a toast to their new life together. May their imminent divorce be appallingly messy and violently ugly.
No seriously, I do hope they’ll be happy together, I guess. I don’t begrudge anyone getting married, but for the love of kindness, did it really have to F*&%ING play out EXACTLY like I imagined it???
When I saw that, I guess I went through something of a system shock. My feelings went numb and I succumbed to a state of deep depression. In a way, I had given up on life. I no longer took care of myself, no longer went out as much as I used to. My clothes would get worn and start showing holes, but I didn’t care. I started suffering from health problems, but still I didn’t care. It wasn’t uncommon for me to sleep for 12-15 hours a night, and even then I just had no energy to get out of bed at all. I used to be punctual and on time for work, but I became so lethargic that if I ended up being only 10 minutes late, it was a miracle. It was becoming a regular tradition for me to hit the supermarket the night before my days off from work, stock up on groceries and DVDs from Redbox, then head home and hole up in my bedroom with my tub of popcorn, TV and laptop, where I would stay unmoved in my jammies until it was time to go back to work again.
I became utterly convinced that God hated me. After all, He wasn’t going to simply ignore my prayers here. Nope, He was going to twist and twist and twist the knife in so deep that it would all but ensure my psyche would never recover from this. It was almost like He recorded my fantasies and decided to orchestrate it in real life so that someone else would become the beneficiary of it, right before my very eyes. I mean really, what were the odds of something like that happening, down to even using the same collection of songs I dreamed would be used at my own wedding? (Which I say at the risk of sounding like a weenie girlie boy.) About a billion to one??
Why? Why did I have to endure that? Why did God have to hurt me like this? I know I can be a wiseass and all who deserves to get smacked around every now and then, but this was bafflingly cruel. It’s part of why I’m so slow to get out of bed every day, because I absolutely dread what new punishment He might have in store for me. My pathetic life must be a source of constant amusement for Him.
But… and before you Christian dweebs start berating me here, let me be quick to note that I don’t really believe this now. I know there’s a purpose to everything, and I’ve seen enough to know that for whatever reason God is keeping me safe from a lot of the evil that’s in this world. I guess that goes to show what a foregone conclusion I must be, that in spite of the complete embarrassment I experienced, I still believe God cares for me and has only my best interests in mind. Maybe it’s Stockholm syndrome? 
Still, this one really got to me in a bad way, and even now I’m still nursing the wounds. Just when I think I’ve put it behind me, every now and then somebody will stick a finger in the wound, like when I run into her and she talks about her “husband” (just hearing her say that makes me cringe.) Ironically enough, the most recent jab came from my mother, of all places. My Mom never knew I had a thing for this girl, even though she met her a few times at work. One time we had a conversation afterwards and Mom said, “She is SUCH a sweetheart, Linc! How come you can’t meet somebody nice like her? She would have been PERFECT for you!!”
Poor Mom. She had no idea why I ran out after hearing that and started ripping and chewing on the grass on the front lawn.
Ah well. I guess the only thing that will make the pain go away for good is when I finally do meet someone for real. It’s hard to imagine even after all that how I could still retain hope that somehow, somewhere, she’s out there waiting for me, but I do. I guess I’ll always be a romantic at heart, no matter how loopy I get. 
I still fantasize about meeting her though. But trust me, I have learned my lesson. Now I imagine meeting her in scenarios that are so outlandish that they cannot POSSIBLY happen to me in real life, much less to anyone else. Currently I fantasize about meeting her as part of an undercover operation I’m doing for the CIA. Oh, and I have superpowers. And the girl of my dreams is an alien from another planet who gets captured by the U.S. government. We fall in love and I spring her loose, then steal the USS Enterprise starship and together we make our way to the Alpha Centauri system, where we spend many steamy, romantic evenings on the paradise planet of Gimmegoomajamjam.
Let’s see y’all weenie tots try to turn THAT one into reality. 
Tags: christian, coworker, cruel, depression, despair, dream girl, dreams, fantasy, God, hate, hope, job, loneliness, loner, love, numb, romance, romantic, social life, unrequited love, wedding
Categories: Lincoln's Personal Log, Romance and Relationships
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Tweeting for love?
Lincoln Adams | April 2, 2008 @ 2:05 pmI recently found a site called Twitter Local, which offers a way to generate an RSS feed that filters out tweets around a certain area. Who knows, I might be able to find a nice girl I could get together with for snugglies and lubs this way. 
I narrowed the search parameter to within five miles, and the first Twitterer I found went by the name of Kristin, who describes herself as a “semi-geek lesbian transsexual in early stages of transition.” These were her latest tweets:
god nigt mfers
bad goddeie
fg**k you all. fk*k me.
beotch
and i dot care what u thingk about
yeah i know i am f**ked up andtalkxng shic bit ig have coood reason andi i dont core
f**k b ush, bugfk society, f**k men

I need to get out of this town.
Tags: crazy, funny, romance, tools, twitter, women suck
Categories: Comic Relief
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