Bitten by hopeless infatuation? Hungry for red-blooded romance? Ask Love Shark for help–summer’s over, things are kind of slow.
Dear Love Shark:
I am head cheerleader at Grain Valley Consolidated Regional High School (Go Polecats!) On Saturdays when there isn’t a game to cheer for, or if there’s no money in the budget for an extra bus for a “road” game, I like to “hang” with the other five girls on the squad. We have fun together because we are popular.
My problem is this: There is this girl “Wenda” who did not make cheerleader and so is just part of the “Pep Club.” They get uniforms that they wear to the games but they sit in the stands and repeat the cheers we tell them to. So they are sort of a subordinate form of life, less evolved or something I don’t know, I’m already behind in biology.
Anyway, “Wenda”–which is her real name, but I thought I better use quotes in case she’s reading this–tags along after us yelling “Hey, where are you guys going, can I come too?” It is really annoying and doesn’t help our image as the coolest girls in school. Also, it’s kind of, you know, ghoulish. I think she wants one of us to break an ankle so she can rush on the court or the field or whatever saying “Don’t worry–I know all the cheers!” That would be a disaster as she is kind of fugly.
Any assistance you can provide would be great.
Amanda Fuller, Osawatomie, Kansas
You come to right place, Love Shark know how you feel! Love Shark constantly surrounded by pilot fish looking to eat scraps off me, host species. While no one should be rude to a member of another species due to goo-goo high school “inclusiveness” codes, you can establish a “symbiotic” relationship with Wenda like I do with pilot fish. Say “Here Wenda, take the burnt French fries I don’t want and in exchange I’ll let you write a book report for me!”
Hey Mr. Love Shark–
I read your column religiously but don’t think you’ve answered this question before. I took my inflatable love doll “Suzie” to the beach the day after Labor Day–she is my “sweet substitute” until I can find “Miss Right.”
We went into the water to cool off, and to my surprise a shark attacked Suzie, puncturing her leg. She lost air rapidly, and was pronounced “Dead on Arrival” when we reached St. Bridget of the Surf Hospital in Hyannis.
I don’t like to hold a grudge against an entire species, but I feel I am entitled to damages of some sort, either a refund for the summer cottage I rented–at the off-season rate, I might add–or a mail-in rebate or something.
Sending this to you because I tried the Atlantic White Shark Conservancy and they just said “Tough yupkas–nature rules!”
E.G. “Ted” Swarth, Buzzards Bay, Mass.
I’m sorry, but you should have read the disclaimer which is posted at all Cape Cod beaches from Memorial Day to Labor Day: “Not responsible for lost limbs, flotation devices or girlfriends, natural or artificial. No dogs, no fires, no alcohol.”
My suggestion would be that you check your homeowner’s insurance policy and see if it covers damage or destruction of personal property. Be sure to include gory pictures of “Suzie” when you file your claim.
Dear Love Shark:
Over Christmas I proposed to my girlfriend Noreen, whose dad owns a truck body company as well as an A&W Root Beer franchise. I mention these businesses to let you know I am not just “head over heels” in love, I am also very practical and want to make sure her parents can provide for her in the style to which she’s become accustomed.
Anyway, Noreen turned me down and not too nicely I might add. “Oh Claude, it is just so klee-shay to propose at Christmas, that’s not very original,” she said as she handed me back the ring I had purchased at Furnwald’s, the only jewelry store left in town.
Mr. Love Shark, I have two questions for you if I may: One, what is a klee-shay, and two, do you recommend I carry a torch for Noreen or look elsewhere?
Bud Blankenship, St. Clair Township, Pennsylvania
You know Love Shark’s rule–you must keep moving or you will die. For me, I breathe through my gills. For you–judging by your letter–you probably breathe through your mouth, so forget about Noreen and find another daughter of a captain of industry who can offer you the kind of position that will likely elude you forever if you try to make it on your own.
As for your other question, a cliche is a small external parasite that lives off the blood of other animals, so this was actually a nice compliment!
Dear Love Shark:
I was born without the “gift of gab” and get all “tongue-tied” when I see a girl I’d like to get to know. This leads to embarrassment and rejection as I blurt out some stupid pick-up line instead of just being myself, which is what my mom encourages me to do. The problem is that the “self” my mom is referring to is the one who keeps getting turned down, not the little boy she sees when she flips through old family photo albums.
Do you have any helpful “tips” you could give me about how to be more comfortable in social situations and not come on so strong?
Will wait to hear from you before going out again.
Charles O. Buchter, Braintree, Mass.
I used to have the same problem. See cute surfer girl–blonde, friendly smile–the kind you just want to eat up. So I would bite into her, then we would lie there in the water with nothing to say to each other, it was very awkward.
This is why I now prefer kayaking and paddle-boarding–they are very relaxed sports, not all rush-rush like surfing. You cruise up from behind to your prey . . . I mean prospect . . . slowly position yourself underneath. Then casually smile, say hello and let nature take its course.
If it happens, it happens. If not, remember, there’s too many humans in the sea to get all mopey about one who screams and rejects you.
Be sure to remember to floss afterwards–you never want to offend the next “potential special someone” you approach with a gross limb stuck between your front teeth.
Available in Kindle format on amazon.com as part of the collection “Take My Advice–I Wasn’t Using it Anyway.”