Thursday, July 10, 2008

Slow, Adler

Yesterday morning my friend of the drunken Tuesday night called me. Briefly, the night before she'd invited me to a "pub." Gentiles like that word: pub. To me, if it serves liquor it's a bar. But they revert to the pub. So, great, let them have their own thing.

She was embarrassed, she was contrite and apologetic. "How could I have said that to you?"

"Said what?" I asked.

"Wanted you to write about me as your girlfriend."

"Oh. It was just a joke. Don't worry about it."

"But it was so rude."

"Rude? Why?" I had an idea why. But she took it in another direction.

"Well, it's mean."

"But I thought it was a joke. I never thought that you were serious."

"But it's mean because, you know...I'd never go out...with you."

I snapped my fingers. "That's nice."

"But you never thought--"

"That you would go out with me? No. How could I? Just because I saved you that one time from drowning? No, I've never had any illusions. Like when we went to the beach and you asked me to rub suntan lotion on your back? No. It never crossed my mind. It was a nude beach? Well, so you're liberal. And when you sat on my lap that night at Orpheus Descending? Your chair was stiff. Mixed signals? You? Never. Remember when I asked you to have dinner? You said that you were busy."

"I'm sure that I was."

"But you're free now?"

"No. Now? I just can't get away..."

"And when I bought you the flowers? Did you call to thank me?"

"I never got them. I thought they were from my mother."

"And the subscription that I bought you to Studies in Canadian Literature?"

"I thought that was from Douglas Gibson."

"Bullshit. You knew that the flowers were from me; you knew that the journal was from me."

"Well, you know that I'm in a relationship right now."

"Right. Kid Celtic Cross. If he took you to you Burger King for your anniversary he'd break his arm patting himself on the back. What'd he buy you last year for your birthday? Instant coffee?"

"You sound angry."

"I'm not angry. You're the one who made the joke. I didn't do anything. I didn't say anything. Okay, so I bought you a Valentine's Day card. But it was on sale."

"You can just admit it--"

"Admit it! I'd never date you."

"Me? You wouldn't date me. Why?"

"You're boring."

"I'm boring? I'm boring?"

"You've got a chess set in your bathroom."

"I do not!"

"Don't tell me you don't! You just took my queen. And your clothes..."

"What's wrong with my clothes?"

"Nothing. They looked good on your grandmother; they look good on you."

"What!"

"And your hair--"

"My hair?"

"When was the last time you paid for a haircut?"

"I told you, garden shears are just as good."

"But you could try to do something with it."

"I do!"

"Where'd you get that elastic band?"

"I...I don't know."

"Where'd you get it?"

"Nowhere."

"That thing came off a broccoli. Look, 'Produce of USA.' You think that I don't go shopping?"

"How did this suddenly become about me?"

"You wanted to date me; now you don't want to date me."

"I wanted you to write about dating me. Not actually to date me."

"And I did."

"Good."

"Right. Good."

"I'm glad that's settled." I stretched my forearms. "Okay. What are you doing tonight?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"Come over. I'm going to rent a movie."

Incredible. "And your boyfriend?"

"He won't be back 'til next weekend. He's building a canoe."

Adler, you're an idiot.
 
All Posts On This Site Are Intended As Juvenalian Satire. If They Veer Into Horatian Satire, That's OK Too. Just, Please, Don't Take Them Too Seriously. PhD Students Can't Afford Libel Suits. CUPE Doesn't Cover Court Costs.
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