Resurrecting the Crush

Alright, folks, the crush is not dead. But it is on life support. It was brought back to life with some subtle prodding (NOT) on the part of my readers and, dare I say, persistence from one Daily Show correspondent who will continue to remain nameless. (If only because I value my life.)

And since I'm breathing life back into this crush, I should probably be upfront about why. There appears to be some intellectual chemistry which, as you know, I've found lacking in the past. My ex-husband for one, who looked at me quizzically when I asked him if he was watching the "Seinfeld" episode where Jerry gets heckled. My heart sank as it dawned on me that the man I had vowed to love for better or for worse didn't know the meaning of the word heckled. He was an IT genius with a penchant for expensive modern art. When it came to verbal jousting though, he was a novice, choosing to withdraw and sulk instead of challenging me. Fun Bobby a.k.a. Howard the Drunk was the most sarcastic and witty man I had ever met (until now, of course) but the fact that he would rather get drunk than laid was definitely a deal breaker. Enter Mo, the dentist, who liked to inflate his self-worth by introducing himself as a "Doctor" everywhere we went.
New Acquaintance: What do you do?
Mo: I'm a doctor.
New Acquaintance: Oh really? What's your specialty?
Mo: Umm, I'm a dentist.
It might have been easier for me to cut my losses sooner had I realized that Mo was in fact short not for Mohammed but Moron.

And that brings us back to DSG (Daily Show Guy for the Darwin award finalists). I don't really like this acronym but it will have to do because were I to employ any other identifiable trait, he would probably sue me for libel. But this guy is really different (read: maddening). Not only does he not take any of my shit, he gives it back to me twofold which while amusing is very disconcerting. And he insists that it's my tendency to be a control freak and desire to speed up the demise of any budding romance that's really to blame for.. well, the demise of any budding romance.

Another charming quality I've recently been thrilled to discover is how he incorporates his acting talents into this..."friendship." Are you ready? He's often alerted to a new post when we're on the phone, so what he's grown fond of doing is READING MY BLOG ALOUD. This, I must confess, is immensely entertaining. With the exception of today's performance when he went into character as a very effeminate gay man. My missteps in dating sound really gay when they're recited by someone gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

So what do I like about him? His biting sarcasm? Nope, that's not it. His unfaltering ability to provide me with a daily dose of humility? Close, but not quite. His ability to see right through me? Yeah, that may be part of it. It's a bit liberating to have someone recognize your crazy and ask if you could wipe your feet and enter without it. But what if your crazy is your safety net? Then what? Then you fall on your face sans the neurotic behavior that has always served as your scapegoat. Kind of scary, just like DSG.