Take Two

When walking down Bloor Street, it is sometimes impossible not to stop and take a second look at a cute outfit, or a hot pair of shoes, or even the hottie who just passed you with the ugly girlfriend.

When waiting in line at the grocery store, it is impossible not to think about flipping through the tabloids that stare you in the face, only to pass them, turn around, and decide to give it a quick look as you wait to be checked-out.

When playing the dating game, it is even harder to resist the temptation of going back to review a certain play, or player, at a particular moment in time.

We spend our lives dwelling over our decisions. We take second looks at our fashion choices, our menus, our friends, our bank statements, television channels, web sites, and even our men. Some say it is because we are never satisfied. Others think it is because we are always searching for something more, something better.

Either way, we all do a take-two. We take a second look at our lives—the people in them, the things in them, and what makes them what they are. Just like movies have sequels, we always want to repeat, re-examine, or reincarnate another chapter in our lives. And just like sequels, they can either be really good—or really bad.

Amanda is your typical “take-twoer.” From “Cucumber Mike” to Dave, Amanda has done a take-two on everything in her life. Her major. Her minor. Her hair. Her shoes. Her job. But she is more notorious with her men. Amanda and Chris met one night long ago while she was out and about downtown. Chris was a computer science major in Waterloo on co-op with IBM in Toronto. Their connection was instant. But of course, with Amanda being the picky princess that she is, decided it was best that they became friends. As the months pasted, they met up in Montreal over the summer, went to movies, dinners, they had a real friendship.

“I can’t be with him. He’s so not my type,” she would tell me whenever I tried to bring up the possibility of them dating. He was obviously interested in her, and after meeting him, I knew he could be the one for her…at the moment anyway.

But once Chris stopped pursing her and showed interests in other women, and Amanda saw the possibility that he would not be hers, she stopped and had to do a take-two.

“I don’t know. I think I like him now,” she confessed to over lunch one day. I knew it. “But I can’t be with him. He’s so far; he’s not blonde or blue-eyed. But he’s so nice.”

She was making excuses not to be with him. Even when doing a take-two, there must be a reason for doing so. We get that sense that it was meant to be, it was written in the stars, that it’s fate. But then why do we hesitate?

Over at York, Danielle was telling me about her own take-two. Billy, her ex-fling at an old job,
was back for a repeat performance in their sequel. A drug dealer, player, and drop-out, Billy was everything Danielle did not need again. But this Billy wasn’t the same one. He was reformed, changed, a new person.

“He’s not like that,” she gushed in the library. “He’s real, he’s honest, and he wants me back. So I let him take me for a little dinner, a little movie, a little shopping spree. No harm in that. After all, my birthday is coming up.”

But something told me Danielle was doing a little more than a little nothing with Billy. She was re-considering him not only as a friend, but also as a potential lover. It was something Amanda, Ryan, and I didn’t want to see repeated.

Ryan was having a similar epiphany in Waterloo.

At 14, Nelson was the first guy Ryan ever had true feelings for. Although it was a young age, Nelson affected Ryan in ways that still move him. He represented a happier time when we didn’t have to worry about marks, paying tuition, or the dating game. One morning at 2 AM, I got the phone call.

“I have been trying to reach you all night,” he said as I wearily remembered missing all his previous calls. “I’m in town, I’m at Nelson’s house.”

Later that morning, when I had actually had a few more hours of sleep, I found out that Ryan and Nelson had starting chatting again. Out of the blue, Nelson decided to drive to Waterloo and bring Ryan to his stylish apartment at Bathurst and Lawrence for the night. So as I lay in bed while Ryan did the same 40 minutes away, I heard the story and the circumstances. With Nelson’s boyfriend in Montreal, and the feeling of loneliness on Ryan’s mind, it was only right that he was in Nelson’s bed four years later, doing a well overdue take-two.

All around me, it seemed, people were doing take-twos with old partners. So I got to thinking. If it wasn’t right the first time, what makes you think it will be right the second time around? Are we just searching to bring mementos from our past into our future? Why are we willing to take second chances or take second looks? Does it take the threat of another man or woman to make us do a take-two of something that is right at our doorstep?

Inspired by my friends’ newfound openness to sequels, I decided to do my own take-two. I had dated Sunny about a year ago, when after a painful and rather messy cut-off, I decided enough time had passed and I was ready to let him back in. One lazy Wednesday night, I gave him a call.

“I haven’t heard from you in such a long-time,” echoed the voice through the receiver. “How have you been?”

After what seemed like a great reconciliation, we decided to meet up for dinner and catch up on old times.

A few days later, as I was getting ready for work, I tried to look extra special because it was the night I was having a “friendly” dinner with Sunny. As I was about to leave, I noticed I had a new voicemail.

“Hey, it’s Sunny. Don’t forget about tonight. Call me at the office. I’m looking forward to it.”
My take-two might actually be the final take, I thought as I locked the front door.

Later that day, I tired calling him at the office and kept getting the annoying “administrative assistant.”

“Sorry, he’s in a meeting.”

“Sorry, he just stepped out.”

“Shall I forward you to his voicemail?”

I was beginning to worry. Was I going to be stood up? He wouldn’t with a cute voicemail like that.

As the day went on, I noticed I had yet another voicemail.
“Hey, sorry I missed your calls. It’s been crazy. Call me when you leave work so we can meet up.”

At 8pm, I finished worked and gave him a call. Of course, I had some time to think over the possible scenarios and decided I would walk out to the bus shelter just in case. As I dialed his number, I saw the bus parked while the driver had a cigarette.

Voicemail.
Take-two. Voicemail.

I was interrupted. “Are you taking this bus?” asked the driver.

I tried one more time before answering. Voicemail.

As I got on the bus, I looked at my reflection in the window and realized I had been such an idiot to think this would ever work. Take-ones end for a reason. Sequels fail at the box office for a reason—because they just plain sucked. I rode the bus home that night, wondering why I ever thought I could get away with a re-make of a bad original.

As for my friends, they all had realizations of their own.

Ryan realized that Nelson and him were better off as friends due to the fact that they were just two completely different people now. Nelson was almost married and not nearly as attentive as he was before (mainly because their “friendship” was a secret), and just because Ryan was happy four years ago, he is now older and wiser, and is equally happy realizing he is better than
that.

Danielle realized that Billy was still just the same old Billy with a few less pounds. And even after a two hundred dollar gift card from the GAP for her birthday, it couldn’t erase the memories of why it ended the first time. That, and because she discovered the girl he said he stopped dating apparently was not aware of it.

And for Amanda, she needed proof. One night, after careful consideration, we missioned to Waterloo. She decided that she needed to know for sure and couldn’t speculate anymore. Out in the dark in front of his student ghetto, Amanda took a serious second look at Chris. From the light of the street lamp, she saw for the first time he was everything she wanted. So, from one take-two, came the happiness Amanda had been waiting for. It is now only a matter of time before they get together.

As for myself, I realized that take-twos are better on paper than they are on the big screen. Keep the photos in the photo album, and not on the coffee table, and delete old voicemail messages, and “I miss you” e-mails. But don’t get me wrong, one in four isn’t bad. But think about it.

If we never did take-twos when walking down Bloor Street, standing in line at the grocery store, or when playing the dating game, we might end up missing out on a great sale or some good gossip, and we would no longer need the phrase “ the one who passed us by,” because we wouldn’t let that happen, now would we?