Fit to be tied

Yesterday I went to the gym after work. On the mornings that I plan on going to the gym I pack a back pack with gym clothes and a towel. That way, I can go right after work and just change there. As I was changing, I realized I did not pack a t-shirt.

Great.

The fear of this happening always lurked in the back of my mind as a possibility. It finally snuck up and had me in a stranglehold of reality.

Realizing there was a mall right across the street, I thought I would run over there and pick up a cheap shirt on sale. So, as I was walking into Dillards... Yeah, Dillards. Who goes shopping for a work-out shirt at Dillards? Me, that's who (what's wrong with me?). So, as I was walking into Dillards, I was approached by a sales associate that must have been able to read the confusion on my face that I was there with intentions of buying clothes in which I was going to sweat profusely. Luckily for her and for me, I spotted a Nike section in a remote corner just as she was asking me if I needed help.

After I declined her assistance, she commented that I looked "as lost as a cow on afroturf." Yep. Shecalled it "afroturf." I wasn't sure the first time, but, upon its repetition, she definitely called it "afroturf" twice. Two times. Apparently this young woman has been on the giving and/or receiving of many white kids schoolyard jokes. Unfortunately, this woman was easily in her early thirties.

I finally wandered over to the Nike section to find some stuff on sale. I found some of those tighter-fitting "Dri-fit" workout shirts, and thought to myself, "I have never purchased nor have I received one of these as a gift. I must purchase one and introduce it to my stable of upper torso coverings." I found one in the color and size that I thought most appropriate to my allegiances and girth. I rang it up and went back to the gym. As soon as this shirt came over top of my head, I realized something was afoot. It tended to cling to my body and show off various contours that I was at the gym to try to remove. When I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I felt like the biggest poseur in the world. Like I was that guy who was trying to look the part of a fitness junkie, but my physique belied my rouse.

Needless to say, I spent $15 on a shirt that will probably never see the light of day again. The Dri-Fit technology worked, in that it captured so much water (read: man sweat) that if dropped on the scale after the workout, it would have weighed more than I do. This must be the same moisture removal technology I saw at the Olympics during the diving competitions.

So, I walked around super self conscious yesterday, which sped up my workout considerably. Maybe it will become my "speedy" workout shirt. Not only will it make me want to get out of it as soon as possible, its sheer... um... sheer will also cut down on any potential wind resistance. But, then I'll become satisfied with its performance which will lead to a feeling of being comfortable in the shirt and then I won't feel so self aware and then it will become yet another workout shirt. I never win.

Go Fish

So, I recognize that the vast majority of my readership is female (read: only my mom reads my blog), which is why I'm simultaneously apprehensive and inspired to write about this.

I'm writing about a phenomenon that I have observed in my dealing with several women in my life. I would say that it's a communication problem, but that would insinuate that at some point during the aforementioned phenomenon an actual two-sided exchange occurred. Here's the abstract of the situation:

Woman has expectations as to how a situation is supposed to go.

Situation does not meet preconceived expectations.

Woman expresses her disappointment that reality does not fit fantasy, and challenges the man to convince her that her fantasy is indeed intact.

Man is placed in a compromised position, facing the impossible task of convincing a woman of something she refuses to believe, despite his statements to the contrary.

Okay, here's how the situation has actually manifested itself (Note to any woman with whom I've had this or a similar conversation who believes in self-torture enough to be reading this blog still: this is an amalgam of several similar conversations, not a transcript of our particular conflagration):

Girl: "Is everything okay?"
Dallin: "Yep"
Girl: "I knew something was wrong! Why didn't you tell me?"
Dallin: "What?"
Girl: "Tell me that everything is okay between us."
Dallin: "I already did. Everything is okay between us."
Girl: "You're such a liar. Why do you have to be such a liar?"
Dallin: "What?"
Girl: "All I ever asked for from you was honesty."

At this point, I'm screwed. There is no point in trying to talk to someone who has her (or his) mind made up about a situation. So my response is the same: "I refuse to argue with you about this. I've already told you that everything's all right. You will believe what you want to believe." This is usually met with awkward silence. And a quick trip to wherever I picked this girl up.

So, with all that said, I'd like to know about the mechanics of this kind of a technique. What are the intended results? What is the motivation?

Clearly this is a manipulation tool. The person who uses this tactic is looking for an excuse to be the victim. They want to demoralize you through their own autodemoralization. A friend recently commented on this concept when talking about fishing for compliments. She said, "When people are fishing for a compliment, they're going to be hurt if you don't say something nice. But then, they won't believe you if you do, anyway. So, why say something you don't mean? It won't make them feel better anyway."

Exactly. People who do this do not want you to correct their view on the situation; they want to be miserable and to make you feel just as miserable as they are.

What gets me here is the total lack of trust in the assertions contrary to their assumptions. This indicates to me at that point that maybe I was wrong to think that things were going okay. To quote Ben Folds, "It seems to me if you can't trust, you can't be trusted."

Until someone convinces me otherwise, I refuse to engage in conversations that are obviously set up so that there's a winner and a loser. That way, I win.