My first encounter with “He’s just not that into you” was in ATC. Slightly fresh from college, anyone would think I had a fair share of romantic angst. These books would be a "bible" to target markets like me, clueless on how to deal with possible romantic involvement with the opposite sex. But I belonged to the strict minority that has different set of problems and none of it involved getting involved with the opposite sex.
I was out shopping with my dad, which meant I had to wait long hours in Powerbooks. It's been a random habit of mine to go to different aisles, read chapters of books with different genres like going on a book hopping adventure just to kill time. I would read some books that belonged to categories one would never find in my humble library, like those self-help relationship books. To cut the story short, I happened to find myself in a self-help section, which I rarely ever go to. I was faced with various dating books of all kinds. Those were like chemistry books to me. At that time I wasn’t dating yet. Even though I seldom have crushes, I refuse to think that I'm inept for a simple social tete a tete of a special kind. It may have been that I've developed a force field of extreme density to blocking the possibility of having my world mixed up with another. I felt that the couple world was alien to me and like a fish out of the water, I would never survive.
I got this book, “He’s just not that into you” out of mere curiosity. I was interested in whatever possible wisdom it may offer without promises or without any hope. I also particularly picked it because I’m always attracted to books with straight-to-the-point, convincing titles that tread towards the tone of bitchiness.
I began to scan through the pages and it was not your ordinary book, at least the format isn’t. It’s like reading a column with compilation of letters from females seeking advice on how to know if the guy is really interested with you in love, in sex, in activities, in life. The author answers it in a no-nonsense point of view and she/he drives the message hard even if it hurts.
Naturally I couldn’t care less what the problems were. At that time I thought it was pathetic. I wouldn’t really know how it could affect me personally, but that’s steaming from naivety. I felt I just couldn’t relate. It was the arrogant and clueless me talking there.
With that natural intervention before my father arrived, I was able to read a few excerpts of the book. I read it unknowing of its growing fan base. Even though I couldn’t actually make enough sense of it, the book is not that hard to read. It’s veering from informative to downright funny and honest that could be easily written by my tough, fun psychiatrist, if I ever have one. But now I understand how it shows the power of shaking women from the dating and emotion faux pas. It's a literary slap in the face, although the difference is that you enjoy reading it.
When my father immediately found out where I was, I immediately put down the book and never again spared a moment of thought into it until the movie adaptation is being marketed.
A couple of years after, I saw the trailers and I finally saw the new print editions of the book. I went to the newly Fully Booked shop in Greenbelt 5, and there I saw new printed editions of books positioned at very strategic places alongside other movie adaptations. This book, like Confessions of a Shopaholic by Sophie Kinsella, was a hit before and now has again the opportunity to widen its still clueless fan base. Movie adaptations and Book sales help each other out. It intrigues readers to dive into literature first before enjoying movies or it could entice those who want a more detailed version of its movies.
At this rate, I am even more interested and I shouldn’t worry if I could actually relate to it. At least I believe I could appreciate the dating wisdom and philosophies more compared to before when I had to figure it out on my own. Since I have experienced the whole rollercoaster ride of love and emotional maturity, might as well listen to experts. Maybe they could provide sense and analysis of some past mess I've made. Probably now I am more than ready. Like Confessions of a Shopaholic, which I haven’t even bothered to read ever, this might be one of those books that I should only care to read at the right place and at the right time.
pix source:
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