Thursday, February 25, 2010

It`s really not a big surprise that I`m single at 42

posted Wed, 16 Nov 2005

The Bodacious Red-headed Pediatrician (aka the Cheese Guy's girl) informed me that telling a guy he can be my Plan B is not good form.

I thought I was being pretty nice under the circumstances!

If I were like this, I would get used to telling men “no.” Or, I suppose, “yes.” But I was taken by surprise. Really, I was. I did not want to embarrass this guy or hurt his feelings. Uff da.

The circumstances were that several of us at the reunion were talking and somehow Gomez came up, probably in my attempt to make my life seem glamorous and exciting rather than empty and meaningless.

You know – I am about to be unemployed, I’m not in an exciting profession, I haven’t accomplished anything of significance. I had to throw something in there. I don’t even remember what I said. Probably tossed off a casual, “Oh, when I was in Paris in September with my Moroccan lover.”

OK. I wouldn’t have said “lover,” Mom. Really. I would have said, “Moroccan guy I hold hands with.”

(Knowing that your mother and all her friends read your blog puts certain constraints on what you write.)

But saying something like that would have given me a certain mysterious, worldly air, don’t you think?

Well, I thought.

So there was this guy, Randall, who had been hanging around me and my former roommates the night before. I had spoken to him briefly. Nice guy. I thought no more of it.

Randall was in this group of people on Saturday night when I mentioned Gomez. He asked me how often Gomez and I saw each other.

I hesitated. Wasn’t this question a little personal? But then, I was the one who had opened this line of questioning. It was my own stupid fault. “When we met in August and then in September,” I answered. “But we talk every day.” I was a bit defensive. I was also a bit confused about why he cared.

Turned out that Randall works in the movie business. I was intrigued.

“You probably get this question all the time, so please forgive me,” I said, “but do you get to see all the movies when they come out?”

“Yes!” he said. “Ditch this guy and come with me. I can give you movies. What can you offer this guy?” (I think he was a bit tipsy. Maybe rolling drunk? I hope so, because I don’t want him to remember this encounter. I also suspect he meant to say, "What can this guy do for you?")

I was startled. How was I supposed to answer this? On the one hand, I was flattered and impressed with his directness, but on the other, I wasn’t interested.

I am very unaccustomed to men paying attention to me or propositioning me – I guess that was a proposition, even if it was a joke. Point is, I didn’t have a flirty response at the tip of my tongue because I am not at all used to this sort of banter.

I cast about desperately for a response that would be a nice way to say “no” and still let him save face in front of everyone.

Apparently, telling him, “If things don’t work out with this guy in Morocco, you can be my Plan B,” did not meet that criteria.

Sigh. My dad was right. I should have become a nun.

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