This thing in Boston is interesting. We all in life do this thing, where we plan out something. In our minds this is the perfect plan. This idea we have, will not just succeed in having the desired effect, but it will be so glowing that others will be amazed at our cleverness. The truth, is that our idea is glaringly bad that if someone else came to us with it we would laugh in their faces. That there is some detail to the plan, that makes it such a bad idea, but since we are the owner of the thought we never notice it. Usually, with ideas such as this we are so attached and proud that we never run it by anyone else, because we don't want to ruin the surprise element.

My idea, that didn't pan out the way I hoped, was my Freshman year of high school, I had a crush on a girl who I will call Harriet. My freshman year of high school I was very naive. I thought the world worked very much like it did on the Wonder Years and Saved by the Bell. When it came to girls, I could barely speak, much less hold conversation. I remember this clearly. On a Sunday afternoon while walking our dog Maggie, I got the great idea that I should compliment Harriet. I walked and walked and thought really hard about what to compliment her on. I thought about her hair, but that seemed too obvious. I wanted to be subtle. I thought about a point she would make in class, but that seemed nerdy (and nerdy for a guy who was planning out a conversation in 10th period Health class is pretty nerdy). I eventually decided that i would compliment her outfit. This would praise both her brain (for deciding to wear it) and her appearance (for how she wore it). After this she would fall madly in love with me and want to talk on the phone for hours and dance with me at all the dances.

The next day I went to school. Finally after lunch I expeditated my arrival to Health class. Health was in a science room so we sat at long tables on stools. Harriet sat in front of me. She got there 30 seconds after me. She was wearing the most beautiful purple MC Hammer pants and a purple Champion sweatshirt. She was gorgeous. I hadn't seen her yet that day, it was the only class we had together and our lockers were in different wings of the school. She says to me "Hi Lake."There was a smile.

I decided to make my move, and without a care in the world said, "Boy someone looks like a big purple cow today." Then I winked my left eye. It's easy now to realize that of all of the zoological spectrum, cow was probably number one or two of animals not to pick. At least I didn't choose Whale or Elephant. Also my choice of adjectives was equally as disastrous. Not a cute cow or a cuddly cow or even a pretty cow, but a big cow.

Harriet responded with, "Did you just call me a cow?"

In the cartoon version of my biography, this is where the light bulb appears above my head. I instantly knew that my plan had not been a success, but had in fact had the exact opposite effect. I think I sputtered something about about how I just liked her clothes, but the damage was done, both to her, and to my ego. Me, who minutes before thought the Nobel committee was going to have to create a special award for seduction, now realized that I was actually a complete moron.