What you won’t do, do for love
You’ve tried everything but you don’t give up
In my world only you makes me do
For love what I would not do
Sometimes love (or the idea of love) can make people do things they would never even entertain the idea of doing otherwise. Obviously many of these things can be completely outrageous. Here are some of the most ridiculous things five guys have done in honor of that special four letter word:
Made a 2 disc compilation mix tape
A well known truth is that after a breakup the mix tape works every time … except when it doesn’t. Well after being on the receiving end of one of those relationship ending conversations, I obviously had to begin construction on the venerable mix tape. The great thing about a mix tape is that it can include all of the couple’s favorite recordings, melodies that conjure up a memory the two people once shared, and of course songs that have lyrics explaining exactly how heartbroken one feels. This works very well for guys because women want to know what we’re thinking and how they make us feel. Furthermore, wisely chosen songs give women memories of happier times in the relationship. I knew all of that, but unfortunately reason was overridden by emotion, and I made a 2 disc compilation mix tape. Some double album cds I own are Pink Floyd’s The Wall, Michael Jackson’s History, The Beatles Anthology, and Tupac’s All Eyez on Me. Those are all great, mine was an epic fail. Two discs is FAR too many songs for a mix tape. It’s much too hard for the woman to keep all the songs straight in her mind, it reeks of desperation and pity (as opposed to feeling hurt), and invariably it will include a few songs that she absolutely cannot stand. Eliciting these types of emotions are exactly what one doesn’t want to do while trying to reclaim a jilted lover, yet this is exactly what I did. Needless to say she didn’t take me back, so all I have to show for my cd making prowess is an embarrassing memory.
Served as a backup lifeguard
At one point during college I dated a girl who was a great swimmer (she competed in high school). During summers or any extended breaks she would pick up some extra shifts working as a lifeguard at a neighborhood swimming pool. I really enjoyed spending time with her, but she always seemed to be at that darn pool. That wouldn’t be so much of a problem if I had known how to swim or didn’t hate swimming altogether. I never told her that because it was such a passion of hers, so I would hang out at the pool with her as she worked and I pretended to have a good time. It got to a point where she thought I enjoyed this routine, and unfortunately I never told her I didn’t know how to swim. She eventually began to ask me to watch the kids for a few minutes while she would go to the restroom or run quickly to grab some lunch. I was too nervous to let her know that I really couldn’t swim because I had kept the charade going for so long. Thank goodness no kid ever got in trouble because there would have been no way in hell that I could have saved them!
Jalapeno eating contest
I met this amazing woman in grad school who I was totally smitten by. All those stereotypically sexy features that Latin women are portrayed with she had in spades. I’m not Latin or very knowledgeable about the culture, so I was nervous that on some level she didn’t fully connect with me. In an effort to show her how much I cared and display some machismo, I entered our school’s jalapeno eating contest. This was an incredibly stupid move because I can’t tolerate spicy foods well at all, and I have a stomach condition that requires me to take medication regularly. I made it through without dying, vomiting, or completely disgracing myself, and somehow took home 3rd place. The post competition aftermath was disastrous because it took a whole day for my tongue to stop throbbing and I had horrible nausea and stomach cramps for the next three days. I may not have been Latin, but I was certainly “papi” in her mind for a good while after that display of courage/stupidity.
Mailed meat overnight
My girlfriend, at the time, and I really loved Jamaican cuisine. Much of our relationship was long distance, but as platonic friends in college there was this particular Jamaican restaurant where we would occasionally dine that made these irresistible meat patties. After a few months of long distance dating I thought for some bizarre reason that it would be a great idea to mail her these meat patties. I assumed she would have to get them very quickly because of temperature and storage concerns, so I wrapped them up, put them in a shoe box, and used Priority Mail to overnight them to her city. Looking back this seems completely insane, but at the time it made so much sense in my mind. Aside from the obvious problems with my plan, she also didn’t get a chance to get to the post office for two days after the meat patties arrived. Suffice it to say she didn’t eat the patties, the shoebox reeked when the mailman handed it to her, and I was completely embarrassed. The one positive is she thought it was a really sweet gesture, so the only thing lost in the ordeal was my dignity.
Attended a mosque
Going to a mosque isn’t that big of a deal, but I guess it kind of is when one isn’t Muslim or aspiring to become one. In my twenties I was in a relationship with a very devoted Muslim woman. Since I didn’t share the same faith as her, she always felt super guilty for dating and having romantic feelings for me. In an effort to assuage her concerns, I decided after several months into the relationship to go to the mosque with her. What I didn’t know was that we could not sit together during the service! Women generally sit on a different side of the mosque as the men, or they have to pray in a separate room altogether. Not wearing my shoes inside wasn’t a big deal, but not being able to see my girlfriend was a bit perplexing. Thank goodness her brother-in-law was there so I could watch what he was doing and try to keep along. At various points I felt like I was attending an aerobics class for the first time and was two steps behind everyone else while feverishly trying to stay in cadence with the group (I mean that in completely no disrespect to anyone. I admire anyone who practices their religion in a solemn, devout manner, and by no means think an aerobics class shares the same level of importance as an Islamic service). It was definitely an experience I don’t regret, but maybe I should have thought a little harder about actually going through with it.