She wore soft green eyes, curly blonde hair, and velvet red lips that existed from eight to ten every tuesday night, for ten weeks. Normally shy guys like me can’t look at girls like her and it took me three whole weeks just to break the ice. She changed my whole perspective on love. Long gone were middle school daydreams of British Chemist bombshells, replaced by a driver’s ed princess named Isabella.Isabella did not share culinary or musical tastes with me, nor did I share her enthusiasm for paintings and opera.
Differences in taste were fine because there was something more then that between us. There was love. Everything about her complemented me. I learned to love all of her whims, except for one. Germs scared Isabella to death and she even carried windex in her purse. Her fear of germs was extreme, but I could eventually love that, right?Over weeks our relationship had flourished into a soap opera.
Every conversation we had became a melodrama to our classmates.
Driver’s education was a boring class, and the gossip young love generated made the class tolerable. Isabella and I were a story that everyone followed and every great story needs a great climax. During the final class I would ask her out.Then it was all over. It happened. I had committed the ultimate sin for any germophobe. Any chance with Isabella evaporated the moment I truly “s*** the bed.
” Ten weeks of hard work went down the drain because of one second of untamed flatulence. My thunderous boom spread over a fifty yard radius for three agonizing seconds, leaving nothing up to my classmates’ imaginations. Some laughed, some cried, some shrieked, all cringed. Isabella said it was the most disgusting thing she had ever heard, and the whole class would have agreed. Our future together was gone; I was a failure.Being a shy sophomore, rejection was devastating. I blew it, never again would I meet another Isabella.
The perfect angel with Mexican genealogy was gone forever. Ten weeks of dreams of a future together were gone because of my own failure to hold it in.After two weeks I became scared of fate. Maybe it was just destiny for me never to find love? All my Mom’s soppy romantic comedies had lied to me; not everyone will find “the one.” I was defeated and needed someone to talk to. My eight-year-old sister was perfect because she held PhD in listening to my problems. After she had heard the whole story she paused, then erupted in laughter.
“That is the most ridiculous story I have ever heard! I cannot believe that someone with my name could be that dumb!” Only then did I understand why it was so funny. My sister was named Isabella and that made me laugh. My perfect girl was blown away by my fart, while my Isabella laughed at it.Isabella and I laughed off the whole incident. Honestly I should have laughed it off right away. I hadn’t seen the comedy because I was so worried that I had become a failure. I thought that being rejected made me a failure.
Being rejected saved me the pain of being broken up with over some future fart. Rejection is not always bad. Being rejected by a college or girl only tells you that they weren’t for you anyway. If someone rejects you for being you then it’s good that they rejected you. If Isabella couldn’t appreciate the humor that my own Isabella could, then I shouldn’t date her. Driver’s education taught me that sometimes rejection is good. Driver’s education also taught me to learn to laugh at your failures.
Being able to laugh at yourself makes you a happier person. Maybe I had failed to get a girlfriend, but I gained a funny story to get plenty of girlfriends in the future.
