K.K. and CoCo Part II: Love Never Fails

Edward, Catherine Zeta Jones, and I shared quick hugs and hellos before quickly finding our stair separated seats. I sat there in the balcony for about 20 minutes before realizing just how pathetic this situation might seem to the former man of my dreams. Here it is 7 years since we dated and I am still presumably dateless, AND, beyond datelessness, I have evidently alienated any and all girl friends who might otherwise have agreed to share an evening of laughter with me.

This was not helping my perpetual quest to portray myself as a non-crazy, but these are the moments in life when one must practice thankfulness. So, with my hard-earned maturity, I created this:

Things to be Thankful for in this Precise Moment
1. Cool jewelry, borrowed at the last minute to keep me from looking completely homely --Check.
2. A good book in my purse to stave off any pre-show boredom—Check.
3. Five empty seats to my right (potentially awaiting my bevy of hilarious gentlemen callers). Check, Check, Check, Check, Check.


It pains me that I am unable to sufficiently capture the scope of ridiculous prayers and unfair judgments that raced through my brain once the hope of handsome chair neighbors invaded my brain, but here Is a beginners taste of what went down:

Actual Life Event: Poor innocent couple walks ominously close to my five seats
Thought Life Response: “No Jesus, not a couple, a man, M-A-Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.”
Actual Life Event: A balding man and his 3-beer- toting compadre head my way.
Thought life Response: “ Ok, yes Jesus those are men but can we hold off for someone who is not so certain that he is going to need that much alcohol just to start the show?”
Writing World Confession & Response: And, don’t even get me started on all the short skirted, emo-wearing, and overweight women who dared to come near, because of which, I was eventually forced to protect MY SEATS with Twilight style vampire hisses unleashed at any and all of the aforementioned.
Are you there God, It’s me KerrAZY.

Luckily, my reading material kept me from blatantly staring people down for the full wait time. So, there I sat, nervously flipping through my copy of Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters like the Conan-loving-fantasy-freak that I am. Perhaps at this point it might be helpful to review the evening thus far.

I showed up:
• on time (hoping to be in bed by 9:30)
• alone
• in borrowed accessories,
• 4th grade level fantasy novel in hand,
• grumpily jeering at any women or ring wearing men, AND
• earnestly anticipating a love connection.

Somehow, things did not go as planned and those 5 beautiful spaces to my right were unsatisfactorily filled. The girl who sat next to me was skinny and blond and lucky that she arrived late enough in the evening for my hair-pulling and eye gouging reflexes to be in something of a hiatus. I was sort of starting to doubt the wisdom of paying quadruple the ticket price to get into a sold out show-- even for my little Snow Cone.

But, when that Late Night Band started playing and my giant toothpick of a man started talking and singing and showing clip upon clip of Walker Texas Ranger, all my neurotic worries drifted away. I was in the “Cone-Zone” where puppet dogs are inexplicably humorous and self-deprecation is less a pathos-inspiring habit and more a money-making endeavor. As we wrapped up the evening Conan explained that this trip to Austin was his first. Yes, Conan O’Brien chose to spend his only day in Austin with me, the Kerr-bear, an experience that left him “awed and thankful”. Not the first time I have gotten this feedback after a first date, but it’s always nice to hear. And now friends, I suspect we have all simultaneously arrived at the next logical question. How long before he introduces me to his parents?