Who's Up For Batting Practice?

So today I discovered that I am a giant pussy.

Because I am waiting on a professor to get back to me regarding some issues on modeling, I was browsing the internet today. By the way, if you're ever a grad student, there is evidently a very high likelihood that you'll be waiting for n professors to get back to you, where n is any number from 1 to the entire faculty of your university. So I was checking my e-mail when I noticed this Men's Health article.

Now, I've been considering buying an issue of Men's Health, since a regular focus of the magazine (I believe) is physical fitness, an aspect of life upon which I am currently trying to focus. For example, I've started eating nothing but bagels and bananas for lunch at the office every day. Oddly enough, the primary motivation behind this move was not the fact that it's a lunch that is loaded with energy and essential vitamins. I bought them because it gives me food at about $6.00 per week. Compare that with at least $30.00 per week if I eat out.

So anyway, the article lists eighteen random things you should do to exhibit "strength." Seems like an interesting prospect. Strength is manly, so why not? I realized relatively quickly that I would have a hard time living up to the standards of manhood that are assumed in this list. The realization came by way of number four, "Stopping at second base on a first date. Especially when she's waving you in from third. Settling for a stand-up double almost guarantees fireworks next time, when you put it over the fence."

Now, before I continue, I'm going to go over the baseball euphemism. I'm a fan of anything baseball, so I have this one committed to memory. "First base" is french kissing. "Second base" is fondling. "Third base" is either fondling of the genitals or oral sex, depending on whether you're in the AL or the NL. "Home plate" is, of course, traditional coitus.

Now that we have that settled, I've got a slugging average that's about as good as a minor league pitcher. Actually, that's just extending the metaphor into a really weird dimension. That means that my primary purpose in the game is to prevent others from getting bases. Does that mean women are pitchers? Maybe they're the umpires. Or maybe they're off playing soccer and we haven't realized it yet.

Anyway, my point is that if I can even get a base hit on a first date, I'm feeling pretty goddamn good about myself. I mean this is the first date we're talking about. My first dates are usually spent thinking about what I should say that will keep some conversation going while avoiding convincing the girl that she should seek a restraining order against me. My wildest dreams end at a simple kiss goodnight at a front porch or some other cliché location. Having even the opportunity to say, "Wait, let go of my dick; I think we should take it slow" is beyond those wildest dreams.

Now I'm torn. Either I should never lay a finger on this magazine since I have about as much business reading it as I would reading an instruction manual for a German cotton candy machine, or I should order as many back issues as I can in the hopes of sculpting myself into a guy who could potentially get to third base on the first date, only to exhibit great strength by settling for mere fondling.

While I try to decide, maybe I'll do number one on the list, "Return a wallet. With all the dough." I'll just have to steal one first...

(Edit: 23:24 - Stopped by Barnes & Noble and saw an issue of Men's Health that was labeled the British Edition. Bought a copy immediately.)