-Play Date-
The date is set.
On Tuesday, the four of us will meet at an Italian restaurant a few blocks away from where I work. The volunteer at the food bank and instigator of this get together, his niece, (whom he claims has met me) the daughter, supposed object of my future affection, and me.
I've got grave misgivings, and for many reasons.
1. The man has described his daughter as an artistic girl, which I like. But the laws of pink-and-black-apparel are very clear on this point; the black-clad woman who meets me also meets my whiffenpoof hair, antiquated expressions, and near-ignorance of alternative music. Conversely, the pink-clad princess attracted to me because of the above isn't someone in which I'm usually interested.
2. I'm still not entirely sure of the volunteer's motives. Perhaps I'm doing him an injustice, but anyone so unnecessarily complimentary to someone they've just met should be viewed with suspicion.
3. He tells me the niece met me while I was working at the college. That I was very helpful, even though she knew almost nothing about navigating a library. She even (he says) wondered where the card catalogs could be found. I can't picture her, but I think only three people have asked me where the card catalog was, and two of them were younger than I am - meaning that the card catalog had been replaced with the online public access catalog about a decade before they were born.
4. And most important, the events of Friday. Months of fleeting glimpses and chaste technical assistance with a student-worker (she's graduating in days, so it won't be unethical!) came to a climax that day under the noses of my boss and coworkers. The back and forth was fun, made even more so by my need to keep the appearance of respectability while surrounded by so many eavesdroppers. We still don't know much about each other, but made tentative plans to get together.
When it rains, it pours.
The student-worker wore red.
Oh, and papa's buying lunch.
On Tuesday, the four of us will meet at an Italian restaurant a few blocks away from where I work. The volunteer at the food bank and instigator of this get together, his niece, (whom he claims has met me) the daughter, supposed object of my future affection, and me.
I've got grave misgivings, and for many reasons.
1. The man has described his daughter as an artistic girl, which I like. But the laws of pink-and-black-apparel are very clear on this point; the black-clad woman who meets me also meets my whiffenpoof hair, antiquated expressions, and near-ignorance of alternative music. Conversely, the pink-clad princess attracted to me because of the above isn't someone in which I'm usually interested.
2. I'm still not entirely sure of the volunteer's motives. Perhaps I'm doing him an injustice, but anyone so unnecessarily complimentary to someone they've just met should be viewed with suspicion.
3. He tells me the niece met me while I was working at the college. That I was very helpful, even though she knew almost nothing about navigating a library. She even (he says) wondered where the card catalogs could be found. I can't picture her, but I think only three people have asked me where the card catalog was, and two of them were younger than I am - meaning that the card catalog had been replaced with the online public access catalog about a decade before they were born.
4. And most important, the events of Friday. Months of fleeting glimpses and chaste technical assistance with a student-worker (she's graduating in days, so it won't be unethical!) came to a climax that day under the noses of my boss and coworkers. The back and forth was fun, made even more so by my need to keep the appearance of respectability while surrounded by so many eavesdroppers. We still don't know much about each other, but made tentative plans to get together.
When it rains, it pours.
The student-worker wore red.
Oh, and papa's buying lunch.
posted by Benedict | 1:45 AM
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