100% perfect girl

[DiamondShow]

Once upon a time, there was this guy...who was walking down the street...and there was a beautiful girl that was walking down the street towards him.
And when they saw each other, they stopped...and deciding to start talking. It was a totally natural and spontaneous thing and it wasn't something that these people usually do. It just happened.
And these people just connected with each other on every word and at every level. It was as if, they had already known each other for so long, even though they had only known each other a matter of minutes...but it soon came a couple hours. And the incredible connection these two made was so strong it was as if there was a glowing light between these two people. So it was then that they decided that their meeting must be FATE.
To test this out, the two went on their separate ways...and decided that if they would meet again, they would KNOW for sure that it was their DESTINY to be together. So they departed. They went on their separate ways.
And as the years passed, a plague hit their city. And many people died.
And years later...there was this guy...who was walking down the street...and there was a beautiful girl that was walking down the street towards him. And as they passed each other, both people recalled a faint glimpse of a memory of having seen each other before. But they continued walking their own separate ways...
THE END
*unsure of the origins of this post. However, I've found this post to be a very useful late-game tactic. It is also good to use this to 'trump' LMR. *
Style

[Hit&Run]

Thanks, I was looking for this story, also didn't remember where I saw it.

[Steve]

The elephant Vanishes by that Japanese author.



One beautiful April morning, on a narrow side street in Tokyo's fashionable Harujuku neighborhood, I walked past the 100% perfect girl.

Tell you the truth, she's not that good-looking. She doesn't stand out in any way. Her clothes are nothing special. The back of her hair is still bent out of shape from sleep. She isn't young, either - must be near thirty, not even close to a "girl," properly speaking. But still, I know from fifty yards away: She's the 100% perfect girl for me. The moment I see her, there's a rumbling in my chest, and my mouth is as dry as a desert.

Maybe you have your own particular favorite type of girl - one with slim ankles, say, or big eyes, or graceful fingers, or you're drawn for no good reason to girls who take their time with every meal. I have my own preferences, of course. Sometimes in a restaurant I'll catch myself staring at the girl at the next table to mine because I like the shape of her nose.

But no one can insist that his 100% perfect girl correspond to some preconceived type. Much as I like noses, I can't recall the shape of hers - or even if she had one. All I can remember for sure is that she was no great beauty. It's weird.

"Yesterday on the street I passed the 100% girl," I tell someone.

"Yeah?" he says. "Good-looking?"

"Not really."

"Your favorite type, then?"

"I don't know. I can't seem to remember anything about her - the shape of her eyes or the size of her breasts."

"Strange."

"Yeah. Strange."

"So anyhow," he says, already bored, "what did you do? Talk to her? Follow her?"

"Nah. Just passed her on the street."

She's walking east to west, and I west to east. It's a really nice April morning.

Wish I could talk to her. Half an hour would be plenty: just ask her about herself, tell her about myself, and - what I'd really like to do - explain to her the complexities of fate that have led to our passing each other on a side street in Harajuku on a beautiful April morning in 1981. This was something sure to be crammed full of warm secrets, like an antique clock build when peace filled the world.

After talking, we'd have lunch somewhere, maybe see a Woody Allen movie, stop by a hotel bar for cocktails. With any kind of luck, we might end up in bed.

Potentiality knocks on the door of my heart.

Now the distance between us has narrowed to fifteen yards.

How can I approach her? What should I say?

"Good morning, miss. Do you think you could spare half an hour for a little conversation?"

Ridiculous. I'd sound like an insurance salesman.

"Pardon me, but would you happen to know if there is an all-night cleaners in the neighborhood?"

No, this is just as ridiculous. I'm not carrying any laundry, for one thing. Who's going to buy a line like that?

Maybe the simple truth would do. "Good morning. You are the 100% perfect girl for me."

No, she wouldn't believe it. Or even if she did, she might not want to talk to me. Sorry, she could say, I might be the 100% perfect girl for you, but you're not the 100% boy for me. It could happen. And if I found myself in that situation, I'd probably go to pieces. I'd never recover from the shock. I'm thirty-two, and that's what growing older is all about.

We pass in front of a flower shop. A small, warm air mass touches my skin. The asphalt is damp, and I catch the scent of roses. I can't bring myself to speak to her. She wears a white sweater, and in her right hand she holds a crisp white envelope lacking only a stamp. So: She's written somebody a letter, maybe spent the whole night writing, to judge from the sleepy look in her eyes. The envelope could contain every secret she's ever had.

I take a few more strides and turn: She's lost in the crowd.



Now, of course, I know exactly what I should have said to her. It would have been a long speech, though, far too long for me to have delivered it properly. The ideas I come up with are never very practical.

Oh, well. It would have started "Once upon a time" and ended "A sad story, don't you think?"

Once upon a time, there lived a boy and a girl. The boy was eighteen and the girl sixteen. He was not unusually handsome, and she was not especially beautiful. They were just an ordinary lonely boy and an ordinary lonely girl, like all the others. But they believed with their whole hearts that somewhere in the world there lived the 100% perfect boy and the 100% perfect girl for them. Yes, they believed in a miracle. And that miracle actually happened.

One day the two came upon each other on the corner of a street.

"This is amazing," he said. "I've been looking for you all my life. You may not believe this, but you're the 100% perfect girl for me."

"And you," she said to him, "are the 100% perfect boy for me, exactly as I'd pictured you in every detail. It's like a dream."

They sat on a park bench, held hands, and told each other their stories hour after hour. They were not lonely anymore. They had found and been found by their 100% perfect other. What a wonderful thing it is to find and be found by your 100% perfect other. It's a miracle, a cosmic miracle.

As they sat and talked, however, a tiny, tiny sliver of doubt took root in their hearts: Was it really all right for one's dreams to come true so easily?

And so, when there came a momentary lull in their conversation, the boy said to the girl, "Let's test ourselves - just once. If we really are each other's 100% perfect lovers, then sometime, somewhere, we will meet again without fail. And when that happens, and we know that we are the 100% perfect ones, we'll marry then and there. What do you think?"

"Yes," she said, "that is exactly what we should do."

And so they parted, she to the east, and he to the west.

The test they had agreed upon, however, was utterly unnecessary. They should never have undertaken it, because they really and truly were each other's 100% perfect lovers, and it was a miracle that they had ever met. But it was impossible for them to know this, young as they were. The cold, indifferent waves of fate proceeded to toss them unmercifully.

One winter, both the boy and the girl came down with the season's terrible inluenza, and after drifting for weeks between life and death they lost all memory of their earlier years. When they awoke, their heads were as empty as the young D. H. Lawrence's piggy bank.

They were two bright, determined young people, however, and through their unremitting efforts they were able to acquire once again the knowledge and feeling that qualified them to return as full-fledged members of society. Heaven be praised, they became truly upstanding citizens who knew how to transfer from one subway line to another, who were fully capable of sending a special-delivery letter at the post office. Indeed, they even experienced love again, sometimes as much as 75% or even 85% love.

Time passed with shocking swiftness, and soon the boy was thirty-two, the girl thirty.

One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to send a special-delivery letter, was walking from east to west, but along the same narrow street in the Harajuku neighborhood of Tokyo. They passed each other in the very center of the street. The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in their chest. And they knew:

She is the 100% perfect girl for me.

He is the 100% perfect boy for me.

But the glow of their memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of fouteen years earlier. Without a word, they passed each other, disappearing into the crowd. Forever.

A sad story, don't you think?


Yes, that's it, that is what I should have said to her.

[therock003]

Can someone upload the book The Elephant Vanishes cause it seems pretty interesting.

[necromancer]

Not sure if you guys are interested, but the following is a more refined version of the 100% perfect girl story... perhaps a bit less simplified...(compared to the one dimensio posted):

Once upon a time, there was a man and a woman. Both of them woke up that morning expecting another boring, uneventful day. He was going to do laundry. She was going to mail a letter. They weren?t thinking or expecting anything out of the ordinary at all.

So the man leaves his apartment, carrying his laundry on his back. It?s a bright, clear morning, but no different than any other morning. She leaves her apartment, holding her letter tight in her right hand. He walks up the street, she walks down the street. Both of them are lost in their own worlds, looking down at the cracks of the sidewalk, but just as they?re about to walk past each other, for some reason, they both glance up at the same time.

Their eyes lock. He wasn?t expecting anything, but a voice in the back of his head forces him to stop. And she never speaks to strangers on the street, but she finds herself stopping as well. Impelled by forces they?re not aware of, they strike up a conversation. And in few moments, they?re seated at a nearby caf?, laundry and mail forgotten, connecting at every possible level.

Neither of them knew how to explain it, but they just clicked. They were perfect for each other. The found common ground on many issues, sharing insight and knowledge that they thought no one else could appreciate, and in the areas where they differed, they complemented each other in the perfect way so as to form one complete being.

And as they talked, he thought to himself, This is the 100% perfect girl for me. And she thought to herself, this is the 100% perfect man for me.
But, as they sat there reveling in their euphoria, doubt started to creep in. This is too weird, they thought. This is too good to be true. How can we just find each other on a day like this, completely out of the blue? How can we know that we?re really meant to be?

So, instead of exchanging phone numbers, instead of deciding to meet later, instead of taking each other into their arms and holding on forever, they decided to go their separate ways. If we meet again, they said, then we?ll know that fate really intends for us to be together.

And so, they left the caf?.

A day passed. Then two days. A week. The week turned into a month, and the month into a year. As the year turned into three, they realized that their initial meeting had been merely chance, and that fate would never bring them together again.

They started to date other people. He met the 52% perfect girl, she the 55% perfect man. It went on: 65%. 79%. 73%. Eventually, they both married, and ironically, they both thought of their spouses as the 83% perfect mate.

Years passed. They had families and grew old, and their lives had moments of happiness, but were always haunted by the ghost of regret, and a quiet despair. Then, a plague of influenza besieged their city, and many died, including the spouses of the man and woman we have followed through this story.

And again, one morning, he wakes, intending to carry his laundry to the Laundromat. She intends to mail a package to her grandchild. He?s in his eighties now, his weak, wrinkled hands struggling with the sack of clothes. She suffers from arthritis, and walks with slow, pained steps. And as they pass each other for a second time, again they both happen to glance up at the exact same instant, and a glimmer of recognition sparkles in their eyes.
But alas, too much time has passed, and they continue forth--the sliver of hope they harbored in their hearts completely extinguished by their regret and despair.

The truth is, they were 100% perfect for each other, but they gave in to their fears and doubts, like so many of us do, instead of relying on their hope and faith. Few people ever meet the one person that?s 100% perfect for them even once?asking fate to make it happen twice . . . ? It's like winning the lottery and ripping up the ticket.

[dP]

Haruki Murakami if i am not mistaken...

[dP]

Found that on another board... untested!!

-27 books (haruki murakami).

http://rapidshare.com/files/26527621/Haruki_Murakami_27_ebooks.rar

[Humility]

That first one was too sweet

[ecw209]

thanks a lot

[Playyer]

Yeah, very nice story. But i like the shorter version more.

[PUA_HBK]

this story rules!!! its also in the back of Herbals book, make her chase you. ;-)

[spua]

I got this version from RSD private confidencial files.

Upon Meeting the 100% Perfect Girl One April Morning
Once upon a time, there lived a boy and a girl. The boy was eighteen and the girl sixteen. He was not unusually handsome, and she was not especially beautiful. They were just an ordinary lonely boy and an ordinary lonely girl, like all the others. But they believed with their whole hearts that somewhere in the world there lived the 100% perfect boy and the 100% perfect girl for them. Yes, they believed in a miracle. And that miracle actually happened.
One day the two came upon each other on the corner of a street.
"This is amazing," he said. "I've been looking for you all my life. You may not believe this, but you're the 100% perfect girl for me."
"And you," she said to him, "are the 100% perfect boy for me, exactly as I'd pictured you in every detail. It's like a dream."
They sat on a park bench, held hands, and told each other their stories hour after hour. They were not lonely anymore. They had found and been found by their 100% perfect other. What a wonderful thing it is to find and be found by your 100% perfect other. It's a miracle, a cosmic miracle.
As they sat and talked, however, a tiny, tiny sliver of doubt took root in their hearts: Was it really all right for one's dreams to come true so easily?
And so, when there came a momentary lull in their conversation, the boy said to the girl, "Let's test ourselves - just once. If we really are each other's 100% perfect lovers, then sometime, somewhere, we will meet again without fail. And when that happens, and we know that we are the 100% perfect ones, we'll marry then and there. What do you think?"
"Yes," she said, "that is exactly what we should do."
And so they parted, she to the east, and he to the west.
The test they had agreed upon, however, was utterly unnecessary. They should never have undertaken it, because they really and truly were each other's 100% perfect lovers, and it was a miracle that they had ever met. But it was impossible for them to know this, young as they were. The cold, indifferent waves of fate proceeded to toss them unmercifully.
One winter, both the boy and the girl came down with the season's terrible inluenza, and after drifting for weeks between life and death they lost all memory of their earlier years. When they awoke, their heads were as empty as the young D. H. Lawrence's piggy bank.
They were two bright, determined young people, however, and through their unremitting efforts they were able to acquire once again the knowledge and feeling that qualified them to return as full-fledged members of society. Heaven be praised, they became truly upstanding citizens who knew how to transfer from one subway line to another, who were fully capable of sending a special-delivery letter at the post office. Indeed, they even experienced love again, sometimes as much as 75% or even 85% love.
Time passed with shocking swiftness, and soon the boy was thirty-two, the girl thirty.
One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to send a special-delivery letter, was walking from east to west, but along the same narrow street in the Harajuku neighborhood of Tokyo. They passed each other in the very center of the street. The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in their chest. And they knew:
She is the 100% perfect girl for me.
He is the 100% perfect boy for me.
But the glow of their memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of fourteen years earlier. Without a word, they passed each other, disappearing into the crowd. Forever.
A sad story, don't you think?

[superlex]

Got it.

Now I am about to morph it.

See if I can turn into a 100% perfect man - at last he died in saving her from a car accident.

[nfcribeiro]

Haruki Murakami books are definitely worth checking (I read them before I dived into pua-land), as you'll be able to get amazingly beautiful little metaphors and stories from them, then just adapt them into your storytelling.

[Pronto]

What is the point of this? If you're reading it to generate a response, to me, it's extremely long, and not enough punch.

Somebody set me straight here...

[JoRocK]

Pronto: the point of the story is too create an emotional connection. It can be used in comfort IMO..

[aeltoppe]

worth a try.

[AceBat]

WOW I'm even feeling the sadness :-( ... but it is an awesome story :-)

[Tiberyus]

It's called "On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning", by Haruki Murakami. From a storybook "Elephant Vanishes"

My friend has written that story (Starting from "Once upon a time" version) on the back of sleeve of his jeans, just below his ass. And girls would start touching him and trying to read that, and he'd be like "Are you trying to grab my ass? Slow down." And when they in fact DID read the story, they're all "OMFG that's amazing!"