Antonio Banderas

Office employees, rise up in arms!

The summer after my high school graduation, I had the coziest job of my life at the McAllen Country Club poolside bar and grill. At great pay for a summer job, I got to watch daytime TV and eat three squares that our cook Jakkan would steal from the main country club kitchen. I also usually managed to secure a little food to take home with me. I would take this food to my friend Jeff where he worked at the Blockbuster. When his shift was over, he’d sneek out a free movie or two, and we’d head home to enjoy our ill-gotten films and fajita-nachos.

Jeff and I also both had girlfriends. Girlfriends who treated us poorly. Through our mutual woes, we developed what we called the “Desperado” school of relationships. Our battle cry became “Guns Before Emotion.” If you were in a crappy situation, better to shoot your way out. Go in with both barrels blazing.

Needless to say, this is much easier said than done. But, boy does it make you feel good to say it.

At one point, we got particularly sick of the situation. We decided that our girlfriends weren’t pulling their weight and were undeserving of our affection. To show them, we made a pact. Jeff and I would not display physical affection unless they initiated it. Hand-holding, goodnight kisses, the works. Now, I realize that this is a little juvenile, but we were 18 and those girls really had been treating us terribly for weeks and weeks. Talking tough made us feel better, as did the mutual support.

To further motivate, we decided to make it a bet. Being particularly poor (stealing our evening meal and entertainment), we finally decided that the first one to break down would have to purchase the other a Snickers bar. King size. We shook on it, and left to start our shifts at work. Who won? Neither of us. As soon as we left each other, our respective girlfriends BOTH called us, affectionately saying they’d missed our company. Imagine my relief when I called after work (or maybe he called me) to sheepishly admit there would be no chicken fingers and VHS tonight, to find out that he had folded as easily as I had. How had they known?! The very second we started to stand up for ourselves, they struck. The part that stings the most is we loose the fight in us and fold without protest at the first batting of an eyelash.

I would chalk that up to coincidence and file it away as a clever anecdote to entertain friends, except that there seems to have been an element of that experience in most of my interactions with girls since.

For example, I’ve recently had a rough experience with a certain girl. We’ll call her Schmalee. Inspired by Tom’s cavalier “Let’s forget this!” I decided to stop torturing myself by pulling more weight than the situation was worth by deleting Girl’s number from my cell phone. To avoid the temptation. This was, say at 11:45 at night. What should happen at 11:30 the very. next. morning.? She calls and leaves an endearing voice mail.

How do they do it? Emasculate me the very moment I decide to stand up. And, where does all the rabble rousing go the second there's a smile in my direction?

Guns Before Emotion! (would someone translate that into latin for me?). Desperado Style.

If only.