And the hits just keep right on coming...

In most, if not all, of Shakespeare's plays there is an operative known affectionately as the clown, or the fool. The job of this drunkard/ignoramus is to provide crucial insight (unintentionally so) into the motivations of the main character(s) and to introduce upcoming plot twists.

In my life, with anything that pertains to my relationship with Gordon, I have my own personal post-modern clown. The dramatis persona is a close friend of G's. He works at a bookstore in Sarah's neighborhood. It was yesterday that I felt compelled to go in there to purchase a book that I'd been hemming and hawing about getting as well as a hard to find cd.

I am never able to take it for granted that G's pal will be there on the few and far between occasions that I enter this bookstore, but he was there yesterday, and in light of recent developments, I knew he would end up advancing the plot of my story.

Unable to fight my own destiny, I turned to Sarah and said "I knew I would find him here today; I know he has some information for me." Indeed, I saw him in the window before I opened the door of the store. And though it was unlikely that the news would be good, I was anxious to get on with it. I am in no way likening myself to Christ, but I understand why he said to Judas just an hour before the man would betray him, "What you are about to do, do quickly."

In any case, I said hello to the friend and he immediately informed me that I'd come up recently in a conversation he had with Gordon, and he wanted to tell me about it, so not to wander too far away. Eventually he found me in the music area. The cd was a no-go, but then he helped me find the book. It was in the Christian authors section. Sarah happened to pick out a book called "Save your Marriage before it starts." This was not really odd in the context of the moment. See, he could not remember for the life of him why I had come up in this conversation with Gordon, only that somehow I had been mentioned in the vein of helping him (the friend) with something. He thought perhaps that it pertained to a dream I told him I had about him weeks ago--that he was married to a disheveled red head. It was in this context that Sarah pulled out that book to tease him--saying maybe he'd need something like this if there was any truth to my dream.

Without missing a beat he said said "Actually we should buy Gordon this.... he told me wants to take premarriage counseling with...what's her name..."

"_____" I interjected, trying to sound offhanded.
"That's right, ____."
"Hasn't he only been seeing her for a month?" I asked, still trying to sound offhanded.

He went on to say that he'd tried to caution Gordon that maybe one might wait for the 3-month mark to pursue something of this magnitude.

In that moment I didn't feel much of anything. Not numb. Not sad. Nothing good or bad. The conversation ended as he went back to his post and Sarah went to the ladies room after giving me an "I'm sorry" look. I stood there trying to process it all.

Shortly after he returned to where I was standing and asked if I was looking for something else. I told him I wasn't, but then asked if he'd met Gordon's girlfriend, he indicated that he had, that she is "nice enough, I guess," and further said that from what he could tell they seemed compatible in their dispositions...but that it was a bit too much to take right now since they are in the initial, very affectionate phase of their relationship.

Before I tell you what I said next, I must say here that I had no temporary lapse in judgement. My words were very deliberate. I said it because it was the only thing I could say. I said it because I didn't have the strength to pretend that this is all purely academic for me.

"You have no idea how hard that is for me to hear."

He looked completely unphased. He just hugged me.

That's right. I went into a bookstore where Gordon's friend that I never see (or hardly ever see) was the source of more complete information about Gordon's intentions regarding his new love, his long-term intentions. after a month of knowing her. when you know you know, I guess.

Before this second conversation I had given him my number at his request. He suggested that we might go out for drinks soon. I like going out for drinks, so I'll accept most invitations to that end...

So to sum up further, if he does indeed call me, at some point soon we will go out drinking. He, who is often the bearer of bad news regarding Gordon, hugged me as I candidly told him that this was all a very bitter pill to swallow. He looked as if he fully expected me to say that. This is the same man I once told I was too fat to be in the movie he and Gordon were making. I know for a fact that he told the other people we were with what I said, because it got back to me.

I have no reason to think that what I said won't make it back to Gordon.

When I am not busy crying, the writer in me can't help but be somewhat impressed with the irony and apparent craftsmanship that has to have gone into this unfolding action. The moving finger writes and having writ... the handwriting is on the wall...

Etc.

Unrelated. I asked one of my instructors to consider being my thesis advisor when the time comes. Not only did he not write me back, but he sent out two other class-wide e-mails, so my request is unacknowledged at this point. I hope this wasn't some sort of gaffe on my part.

In the language of the sports motif, I believe one would say that I am batting a 1,000.