The Chase

Everybody loves surprise presents.  That initial rush you get as it’s unexpectedly first handed to you.  Your pupils dilate, your heart beats faster, you start mouthing unintelligible words, and your mind instantly runs through the millions of possibilities of what it could be.  Then as your trembling fingers rip through the shiny wrapping paper, your curiosity is whipped into a frenzy and you reach an almost zen-like state with only one intelligible thought racing through your mind.  ‘What is it?’ The anticipation of what could possibly be inside is worth almost as much as the gift itself.  Then as quickly as it erupted, the torrent of anxiety quickly subsides and gives way to feelings of tranquil elation as you gaze upon your actual gift.  It doesn’t matter what it is (though if anyone cares I would love a pair of those Bose QC15's), it always makes your day a little brighter and puts a little bounce in your step.  

This rollercoaster ride of emotions isn’t constrained to just one aspect of our lives.  It directly applies to another facet of our existence.  Throughout the last year and a half I’ve grown a little and tasted the many flavors of life’s palette.  And in this theme park we call life, I stood in line time and time again to ride one particular roller coaster ride.  The disclaimer at the start of the line says, ‘Do not ride if pregnant, have a history of heartache, or are younger than the age of 18.’  It's definitely not a ride for the fainthearted because it's an intense experience every time.  Sometimes I come out trembling and choking back tears.  Sometimes I feel like I got thrown into a ring and went 12 rounds with Evander Holyfield.  But nevertheless I keep coming back (slightly masochistic I know). The reason I keep coming back and why the line is so long, the reason why it’s the most talked about thing on the planet, is because of that one in a million chance where after the ride you walk out and feel like the world is beautiful and filled with nothing but rainbows and puppy dogs.  This particular roller coaster ride is called, ‘The Chase.’ 

The chase is the best part of single life.  Dressing up and going out every night with the possibility of meeting someone new.  Looking in the mirror each morning, wondering who might turn the corner and walk into your life today.  And when you finally find a girl you like, the anxiety multiplies tenfold.   Should I call? Should I not? Does she like me? Was I too forward?  Were my jokes funny? What did she say she liked?  And then comes that first date.  You’re always a bundle of nervous energy.  My heart beats so fast it’s like the Energizer bunny shotgunned a can of Redbull then flipped the switch on for NOS.  Then on the way to meet her you run through your mental checklist.  Breath? Clothes? Wallet? Keys? Anything in my teeth? And finally you rehearse that initial compliment, the stories you plan on telling, you’re hobbies and interests, strengths and weaknesses, when you've shown leadership skills in a team setting…  It’s like a job interview… for love.

For some, whether or not it works out is secondary.  They thoroughly enjoy the chase.  I liken them to Sergeant James of the movie, Hurt Locker.  Whether or not they win the war is of no consequence.  He needs the adrenaline rush of living life on the edge to feel alive.  The only difference between Casanovas and adrenaline junkies is the type of pain they flirt with.  Casanovas tango with emotional pain and the junkies two step with physical pain. Personally, I believe that it’s all a means to an end.  So every time I arrive at the restaurant and step up to the (dinner) plate, I'm swinging for the fences.. that white picket fence with a dog and a two car garage.  But sometimes the journey is even more memorable than the destination.  So until I pull into that two car garage, I’m just gonna ride top down with the sun at my back until I meet the Sally to my Harry.  Oh and 'Sally', if you're out there... hurry up and call me.