posted Sun, 19 Jun 2005
One of the many lunch dates in my busy social calendar last week was with a colleague, Billy, whom I have known for five years. I have known him since he came to work for the company, right after he graduated from college. He’s a really nice kid. We have worked on several projects together, although not recently.
For whatever reason, Billy asked if I wanted to have lunch together last week. When we got to the restaurant, he told me this was his treat. I protested, but he insisted. I stopped arguing and accepted graciously, although I think lunch between colleagues should be dutch treat. But it’s ungracious to argue when someone makes a generous offer like that. When I offer to buy lunch for someone, I mean it, and find it insulting to have the person make more than a token protest.
I really can’t see myself in a Mrs Robinson-type situation. More the opposite, really. I usually attract men much older than myself. Guys my own age usually want nothing to do with me. I’ve been told I intimidate men. I have no idea why I would. Well. Maybe a little idea why I would.
We had a nice conversation. On the one big project we had worked on together, I used to make brownies for the team frequently. “No brownies for you!” became a mantra when I was teasing someone. Billy told me there was a guy on his team now who was always bringing elaborate desserts to work and that he – Billy – wanted to make something even better. (Men are so competitive.) Did I give dessert-making lessons?
No, I told him, but I would send him some recipes. And, I said, he might want to consider taking some cooking classes – that would be a great way to meet girls! Then I got nosy. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No, not right now,” he said, blushing. He’s a quiet, reserved guy – not the sort who would be out on the town all the time, I would think.
“We’ll have to figure out a way for you to meet a nice girl,” said yenta me.
Then he told me that he had gotten a cat and we compared kitten and cat stories. “You need to come over and meet my cat,” he suggested.
“OK, sure,” I said.
Then he told me about the business trip he had taken to Goa. I was really interested to hear about such an exotic city. “I have photos,” he offered. “You can come over and see them if you want.”
“Email me some!” I said.
By now I am starting to wonder, but thinking, No! I am THIRTEEN YEARS OLDER than he is! I am completely misreading things here. (And no, I did not pick up any gaydar, either.)
Leigh thinks he is interested in me and not in a I-am-old-enough-to-be-his-big-sister way.
I think she is wrong.
Men, what do you think?
The end of the line
1 year ago