Back in my New York life I am riding the bus (love the bus). Based on my f-bomb drive through suburban St. Paul – I think everyone would agree that the world is best served if I am driven, not driving.
I am sipping a Diet Coke as the bus slowly rolls uptown along Third Avenue. I am meeting Haynes Thomas and Tate to see a movie (something I so rarely do, especially in a movie theatre). It is not that I am opposed to seeing movies. It is just that (a) the theatre in my neighborhood is not that nice or new and (b) if I want to see a movie with a friend I have to come downtown. I can’t get anyone who lives south of me to visit me more than once. Except Meera, she has come to visit me twice. Also I am not someone who wakes up on a Saturday afternoon and thinks “let’s see a movie”. I am either going to the gym to take a spin class or running the requisite weekend errands (Target, groceries, dry cleaning, etc.).
At some point I zone out, lulled by the motion of the bus. When my phone alerts me to a text message it abruptly shakes me out of my reverie. Thinking it MUST be Tate or Haynes Thomas asking about my ETA, I flip open the phone to find this:
Text from 718-xxx-xxxx: Hey how are you? We should get together.
Hhhmm. Who the eff is this, I wonder. Of course I presume it to be the wrong number, and I out of courtesy write back: Hey, I think you have the wrong number. I don’t know you.
718-xxx-xxxx writes: No, you know me, it’s Flyboy.
Ugh. Didn’t I leave him a message a few weeks ago telling him thank you, but no thank you, so I write back: Oh. Didn’t recognize the number.
Flyboy writes: Why not? Didn’t you put me in your phone?
Flyboy: Oh. Well never mind – I was wondering when you wanted to get together.
Really? Hhhmm. How to address this? I write: I don’t know if this is such a good idea.
Flyboy writes: Why? Because I called and texted to make sure you weren’t waiting for me? I’m sorry for doing the right thing.
Okay. This guy is persistent and a little bonkers. So I decide that he is someone who needs to be SHOWN not TOLD that this (he and I as a couple) won’t work. I think that the best thing to do is to meet him and DEMONSTRATE through words and body language that we are not a match.
I write: Sure. How about next Saturday.
Flyboy writes: Great. See you then.