Everybody Plays The Fool Sometimes (or, I didn't Mean To Turn You On)

As I was getting ready for dinner at the Helmand last night, I checked my e-mail to find that my prof had written asking if I'd like to reclaim custody of my bread knife...that evening. He was headed back out of town on Friday morning and last night was the best time for him. I shot him a reply letting him know that I had dinner plans, but that I'd pick up my knife on the way home. We agreed that I would call him to determine a place to meet.

Once C, my classmate and fellow poet, picked me up we headed to the Mt. Vernon neighborhood where I used to live. We were rerouted by detours due to Baltimore's Annual flower show. We eventually found parking, and didn't arrive at the restaurant too late, all things considered.

Desperately was already there waiting. He seemed subdued, initially, which gave him a fairly natural air. I almost felt that I had nothing to worry about, but I set to work on all the verbal and non-verbal cues I could think of to establish my lack of interest, anyway.

As I told C on our drive downtown, I never had any intention of making more plans with him, so I was willing to be as obnoxious, within socially acceptable parameters, as need be.

The evening went along fairly well with the three of us sharing anecdotes (well he mostly talked about how overworked he is), C played along delightfully and subtly.

At some point, Desperately began to come to pep up a bit and called me "darling," something he's done once before prior to our initial hangout. I thought he was just being cheeky at the time, and I didn't yet know him as "Desperately" then, so I thought it was kind of funny. This time, however:

Me: "What did you just call me?"
Desperately: "Darling...is that all right?"
Me: "Is that what you call all your women friends?"
Desperately: "I call my women friends any number of things."
Me: Non-committal noise of disapproval.

(he may have won that round)

When he excused himself at one point, C said to me, "I think he's interpreting your snarkiness and detachment as feistyness and positive attention. Think about it, how many women ever pay any attention to him, and while it's clear to me what you're doing, I think it's more attention than he ever gets..."

"Great," I said.

It would seem that he is incredibly obtuse. As C pointed out, she would have known, if she was him, as soon as I told him that if the 18th did not work for him in terms of hanging out, that I would just send him a check for the money I owed him...

Because D doesn't care for cheese (this has come up twice now), I snarkily referred to him as "the boy who doesn't like cheese," which I simply can't understand. It has nothing to do with lactose intolerance. He just can't see that it adds anything. Fair enough, I guess, but I still can't relate.

So after an evening of me talking about how adorable other men are, calling him "the boy who doesn't like cheese," and calling him on calling me "darling," he said "well this has been fun. When can we do it again?"

C attempted to deflect and said she'd have to check her schedule. I said I was busy all summer. In one final attempt at something, D says to me "well, I do have your card." I made another non-commital noise.

Before we departed, I reiterated that he should have a good summer, he said, "I'll miss you..." I made another disgust noise. Quell Nightmare.