There's the strangest phenomenon in the world, which goes something like this.

I'm at the hospital. Behind my podium. I'm on the clock. Customers occasionally bug me because they want something.

Following me so far?

Now let's split this scenario into two. In scenario A, I'm on my cell phone. Doesn't matter what I'm doing. Could be browsing Facebook or I could be reading Great Expectations on the Kindle app. Chances are, if I'm on my phone, the customer's gonna lose their mind. They won't scream or holler or even make a comment, but they'll bitch to human resources, who'll then bitch to me.

But here's scenario B. Instead of being on my cell phone, I have a book in my hand. Could be a steamy romance, could be Great Expectations. And the customer will applaud me for it.

I posit this one question:

What the fuck is the difference?

Seriously, what is the difference?

When you get down to it, either way, what I'm doing is passing time. I can open up YouTube or NewGrounds on my laptop, but do that on the tiny computer in my pocket, aka my smartphone, and I hear a complaint from my manager.

I don't get it. Is it morally reprehensible to be on my cell phone no matter the circumstances? What if a man has a heart attack in front of me? Will I get in trouble for whipping out my phone to dial 911?

Anyway, rant over. I'm reading, so all the customers in the world are happy. Won't hear a peep out of my manager tomorrow.

What am I reading, you might ask? The greatest form of literature to ever grace this blue marble—the light novel.

Short. Simplistic. Doesn't fluff up its wording to be disgustingly poetic. And never fails to have cute anime girls. Can never forget to mention the cute anime girls. This world is made objectively better with the inclusion of cute anime girls. Without cute anime girls, I wouldn't be the reader I am today.

The book in my hand as I kill time in between parking random no-names' cars is Bottom-Tier Character Tomozaki. Bought it on a whim because it had a cute girl on the cover, and now I'm hooked. The whole deal is that the protagonist is a loser, but he meets this hot babe who starts tutoring him on how to turn himself into a winner. Five stars, would recommend.

What draws me in, though, is the romance. Well, hints of romance. The hot babe's like, “Tomozaki, I want you to get yoself a girlfriend,” and there's this one chick who actually does have a crush on him. She's best girl, by the way. Totes rooting for them to go out.

But what's incredible about light novel/manga romances is how love just comes to the protagonist. He doesn't have to lift a finger and the girls come running, and he's got no small selection, neither. He's got spunky girls, sweet girls, girls who warm up to him gradually. Though sometimes, I will admit, the girls are a little too willing to hop on his junk. A minute back, I read a bit of this series called Death March to the Parallel World Rhapsody. Badass title. Garbage story. To cut to the chase, after the dude reincarnates into a fantasy world and basically becomes a demigod, he saves this one girl, and she immediately falls head over heels for him. After one rescue.

It's stuff like that that makes me wish life was anime. Know how many girls I've rescued? A ton. Know many of them were hot? A lot. Know how many wanted to date me afterwards? Not one.

Goddamn. What I wouldn't give to be in some of those lucky bastards' shoes. But I can't, because life isn't anime, so they can fuck off. Got themselves amazing babes begging on their knees and they can't even be bothered to make a move. They just soak it in, milk it, like, “That's right, you slut. Worship my pretty boy face. Crave this handsome cock of mine.” Bunch of braggarts.

Hold on. Maybe there's a lesson to be learned here.

Anime protagonists don't chase. They're just going about their business, doing their thing, and the girls come to them. Without even trying girls fall head over heels for them. That's the page I need to rip from their book, because my book's just blank pages.

Céline Dion might've been onto something when she sang about how love comes to those who believe in it. I believe in love more than most people in this hemisphere, but I've been too active in my approach. I need to take a seat back, chill, and wait for the love to come to me.

The only reason I'm bringing her up is because that's the song playing on the radio right now. One of, like, three songs on this station that don't make me wanna cast myself from an interstate bridge (though it’s pushing its luck with how much it plays). I tried convincing the head of security to change the station to something with a playlist longer than twenty songs, and he said he'd look into it and never did. Useless jackass. Whose idea was it to stick speakers outside the front door and disguise them as rocks? They're also a jackass.

Oh! Here comes a girl now, and she's looking mighty fine, going by my evaluation. Pretty, long hair, a cute button-up top, and—jeans with tears in them? All up and down her legs, too. What's up with that? She get attacked by a wolverine on her way here?

There's nothing to fear, sweetheart, 'cause if I'm your boyfriend, not even the National Guard'll be able to do a thing to you. You'll never have to worry ever again about another pair of pants getting ruined.

Oh, man, what am I gonna say? How am I gonna greet her?

Oh, yeah, that's right—I'm not. I'm just gonna sit here, cool as a cucumber, and let her do the talking. I believe in you, love, so believe in me, too. Just walk this way. Talk this way. Ugh. Aerosmith.

“Is this where I come to get lab work?”

Holy shit, she's talking to me?! She's talking to me!! And know what that means?

She wants me.

“Yes, it is. Just head inside and sign in on that clipboard on the desk.”

“Thank you so much!” She flashes me a smile, and what a lovely smile it is. It's a smile I can fall in love with.

She goes inside, and...that's it. Our conversation ends.

Not gonna lie. That interaction wasn't as fulfilling as I was hoping.

I didn't say more than I needed to, so is there somewhere I screwed up? Now that I think about it, I was smiling at her. Even if it's my usual customer service smile, that still might be overdoing it. I need to tone it down, show absolutely no interest at all. The goal is to get her thinking, He's not interested in me? Why's he not interested in me?! He should be interested in me!

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I spy another girl on the horizon, and luck must be going my way, because she's a looker, too. Cute, short hair, a t-shirt with text about how dope being kind is, and—ripped jeans?

Another?

That wolverine really has it out for pants today.

T-minus thirty seconds until she's within talking distance, so let's go over some last minute stuff. Or half-minute stuff, I guess.

First off, no smiling. That was my mistake last time, and my parents raised me to learn from my mistakes.

Second, no talking unless she talks first.

Third off, eye contact. Should I make it? Meeting eyes might display interest, so better not.

Anything I'm forgetting? That should be it. No contact should be made from me to her. Her to me only. To her, I'm nothing more than a bum on a bench. At least until she realizes meeting me is a once-in-a-lifetime encounter and that she needs to capitalize on it or regret it for the rest of her life.

"Aahhh." Meeting the love of your life is so exciting.

No—fourth off, can't be excited, either. She'll smell that, and it'll scare her away.

I gotta be cool, relax, get hip—

Dammit, singing rocks! Stop playing songs that influence my thoughts!

The girl draws near, and I set about my master plan of not acknowledging her in the slightest.

She passes by me without acknowledging me in the slightest.

“...”

All right...

That didn't work, either. Did I go too far? Seems like it. If a girl has no reason to talk to me, she won't. But I've got a light novel in my hand, which has a cute anime girl on the front cover. That should inspire another anime fan to come up to me and be like, “You like anime? I like anime! We should get naked and have sex!”

That's rushing things a little, but the gist is there.

She obviously wasn't an anime fan, so maybe what I need to do is hang out until an anime fan does pass this way. Shouldn't take too long, right? Even grandmas are vaguely familiar with the concept, so the chances of a cute girl being a fan are pretty good.

So then it's a numbers game, but is that enough? Cute girls pass by me all day, every day. Statistically speaking, a substantial percentage of them are into anime, yet none of them make an approach. If someone comes up to you like, “I like anime!” and you're a fan, shouldn't you be like, “Oh em gee, me, too! Let's get naked and have sex!”?

There's something I'm not seeing here, but what? What?

In anime, what's going on when the protagonist meets a girl? It's not just a meet-and-greet on the street. “Hi, how're you? You're really pretty. Wanna become part of my harem?” That doesn't happen. Not to mention it's boring. So they spice things up by making the encounter some big event. The traditional crash into hello or the dude walking into a club room and witnessing her perform a satanic ritual. It keeps eyes glued to the screen, plus it incentives the girl to wanna hang around the guy, since he attracts excitement. It's like how that song goes: girls just wanna have fu—

I swear, singing rocks, I'm this close to losing my mind! This close!!

That's what I need to do to win this girl over. Make our encounter bombastic in some way, shape, or form, but how am I gonna pull that off? I'm stuck at my job at the hospital. How can I possibly make this exciting?

Heart attacks tend to liven things up, but I don't think faking a heart attack is gonna fly with anyone. Plus, they'll charge me for the rapid response. I work here, but no employee discounts on medical bills. Stingy, greedy bastards.

So what? What will get her interested in me...?

Uh-oh. I'm on a time limit now.

Hot chick, dead ahead.

Long braided hair, a stylish denim jacket that—Does it have holes in it?

Now it's going for jackets?

Well, that aside, she's still hot.

So many beautiful girls today. Since when have I been so blessed to have them grace my presence? Is it a sign? It might be a sign. Some divine power's up there like, “Good job, Grant. You figured it out. Now, have unlimited beautiful girls until you find one that tickles your fancy.” I fancy them all. It's just a matter of if any of them fancy me back.

Oh, crap! She's almost here!

I need to think of something, quick!

"Uh! Uh!"

What's in my pocket? A couple ones? That'll have to do.

I go to grab “something” from my pocket and “accidentally” drop all those ones at the girl's feet. Not convincing her to strip or anything. That one bill's a five, and strippers don't get handed fives, right?

“I'm so sorry, miss! I'm not throwing money at you because I'm an eccentric billionaire, I swear!” I say as I drop down to pick up the money.

She laughs and says, “It's fine,” and does the most amazing thing—she squats down to help me!

What an angel. Truly blessed is what I am.

“So, what brings you here? I doubt it's because you heard you get free money just for stopping by.”

She laughs again, and what an angelic sound it is. Like bells ringing across a crystal blue lake, or something.

“It'd be great if you did get free money for visiting, but sadly, the only thing I'm getting is an x-ray. This is the right place?”

“It is the right place! Through these doors and sign in on the clipboard on the desk.”

“Thank you! We got it all, right?” she asks, double-checking for more money.

“That's everything. Thanks a million for your help!”

“You're welcome. Have a good day.”

She gets up and heads inside.

“You, too. Oh! By the—”

The automatic doors close on me.

“......”

What gives? I was getting positive feedback, wasn't I? So why'd she dip out as soon as she was done helping me? Was that not exciting enough? Am I gonna need to hire a marching band and have them play the soundtrack of my life?

Know what I should've done? Dropped all my bills again so that she was forced to keep picking them up. Rinse and repeat until I got a number out of her.

That's three swings, three strikes, and in less than thirty minutes. I'd say that's a new personal best, but it's not. Seven rejections in fifteen minutes. Five-ish times as many rejections, when you convert the ratios.

Anime's let me down. How could you, anime? I've donated more hours of my life than I'm willing to admit to you, and this is how you repay the favor? Teach me stuff that doesn't land me a girl's number?

Then again, anime is ridiculous. Five girls falling for the same guy because he's nice and not a rich and handsome Hollywood actor? What I wouldn't give for a fifth of that.

I see another girl coming up, but I'm not sure how to react. Anime isn't written to be a realistic depiction of love. It's what lonely guys wish would happen to them. Even though a man can only handle one woman at a time, he still seeks validation to know that, yes, he is attractive enough, kind enough, and funny enough that multiple women would and do view him as husband material. It's a confidence booster, to sum up.

So, how will I handle this lady approaching, a woman whom I find attractive yet, because she is a real woman and not a cute anime girl, would rather munch on gravel than go on a date with me? What can I say or what can I do to persuade her that, yes, dating me is the more pleasant experience than eating gravel?

“Excuse me, miss. Mind if I ask you two random questions?”

I grab her attention as she's about to walk inside.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“I do.”

Thought so. When a girl's as pretty as she is, there's about an 80% that she's taken or about to be taken.

“Second question: How did he win you over?”

“Um.” She thinks for a minute. “We went to high school together, and he was really nice, so we started going out.”

Ah. I get it.

Her boyfriend's an anime protagonist.

“Okay. Thanks for answering my random questions. You have a good day, now.”

“Thanks. You, too.”

And be careful. There's a wolverine on the prowl.