(no subject)
Oct. 3rd, 2004 01:28 amOne thing I'm beginning to notice about living in a house with guys not related to me:
Guys do weird traditional "manners" thing, the kind you always see on movies. They offer to carry stuff, and they want to hold open doors, and they generally act... mannerly.
It's kinda freaking me out.
I mean, I've only ever lived with my brother and my father-- my brother would never offer to carry something for me unless it was really really obviously heavy or I was overloaded, and my dad generally believed carrying my own things fell sort of in the category of doing the dishes-- character-building.
But now there's these guys, who act all... polite. Not *all* the time, you know, but frequently.
In one way it's nice, and different, so I kind of let it go sometimes. Other times it irritates me because, really, I can carry a grocery bag myself. I've got two working arms. And other times it just makes me feel weird.
This is like the guy I went out with-- the first guy I ever went out with-- who wanted to run through the rain to my car to get my umbrella so he could bring it back to me so I didn't have to walk in the rain. Me, being me, was all DOES NOT COMPUTE: "What? But then you go through the rain three times. If we both go now we only go through once." *
It's weird. I'm not used to this stuff. Someone holding the door for you in a grocery store, sure, but beyond that it's... new and strange.
* We argued over this for almost a minute, before I won. My parents said, when I told them later, that I was missing the point and shouldn't beat up on a poor kid who's trying to be romantic and sweet. I'm just sitting there with a blank stare and a sweatdrop. Does. not. compute.
Guys do weird traditional "manners" thing, the kind you always see on movies. They offer to carry stuff, and they want to hold open doors, and they generally act... mannerly.
It's kinda freaking me out.
I mean, I've only ever lived with my brother and my father-- my brother would never offer to carry something for me unless it was really really obviously heavy or I was overloaded, and my dad generally believed carrying my own things fell sort of in the category of doing the dishes-- character-building.
But now there's these guys, who act all... polite. Not *all* the time, you know, but frequently.
In one way it's nice, and different, so I kind of let it go sometimes. Other times it irritates me because, really, I can carry a grocery bag myself. I've got two working arms. And other times it just makes me feel weird.
This is like the guy I went out with-- the first guy I ever went out with-- who wanted to run through the rain to my car to get my umbrella so he could bring it back to me so I didn't have to walk in the rain. Me, being me, was all DOES NOT COMPUTE: "What? But then you go through the rain three times. If we both go now we only go through once." *
It's weird. I'm not used to this stuff. Someone holding the door for you in a grocery store, sure, but beyond that it's... new and strange.
* We argued over this for almost a minute, before I won. My parents said, when I told them later, that I was missing the point and shouldn't beat up on a poor kid who's trying to be romantic and sweet. I'm just sitting there with a blank stare and a sweatdrop. Does. not. compute.