lunch date
by jennifer
clamor in the background and paul's voice, "MV?" more clamor. click.
i do not consider that message a confirmation for our friday lunch date.
friday morning i deliberate whether or not to call him. i call from work and leave a message on his voicemail. "i haven't heard from you, so i guess we'll just catch each other for lunch another time."
back at home, i see that paul has left two messages on my answering machine earlier that morning. the first to try to confirm the lunch date. the second an apology.
later that afternoon, when we finally do catch each other on the phone, we agree that we will have lunch the next day, saturday.
i am mildly surprised that i have still not heard from bookstore boy to make plans for the weekend, but i had told him that i'd be busy through friday, so i do not worry.
everything with paul runs smoothly on saturday. he calls in the morning to reconfirm and we meet at a restaurant near my house. i arrive before paul, which i find mildly annoying. after running into my ex-boyfriend's estranged roommate in the restaurant, i decide to wait by my car.
paul pulls into the space next to me and is talking on the phone. he waves and indicates that he'll need just another minute. still on the phone, he steps out of his car, and i am surprised by how short he is.
shortness. not usually a factor for me. i'm 5'2" and tend to gravitate toward mexican guys, who usually range in height from 5'6"-5'10." but paul stands maybe an inch taller than me. it occurrs to me that the night we met, he was sitting on a barstool. during our entire conversation, flirtation, i stood and he sat. my friends later joked that maybe that was his MO, to sit on a tall barstool and wait for women to approach.
once off the phone, paul greets me with a hug and we agree to have our lunch on the patio. the afternoon is perfect in austin, full of sun and breeze.
he asks if i'm drinking. i'm not. it's noon, and he's invited me for lunch. not drinks.
i order conservatively, the least expensive item on the menu, expecting that he will pay. he does.
we exchange pleasantries, small talk. he is still mildly flattering. i find myself speaking openly about my job and insecurities about my career. he similarly talks about his career. he hasn't gone to school, but decided to jump into the corporate world. we talk about books, and i realize that we don't have much in common on that front. he talks about his upcoming vacation, a week-long cruise. he'll be leaving in two days.
overall, it is a pleasant lunch.
but there are no sparks.
once we are at our cars, he makes a movement toward me. circumventing his motion, i kiss him awkwardly on the cheek good-bye. a flash of disappointment crosses his face. i tell him he should call me when he gets back from his cruise.
almost as soon as i am back in my car, i pull out my cellphone to check for missed calls. there is one voicemail message. i am certain that it is bookstore boy.
it isn't. and the disappoinment is now mine.
thursday night i return home to find a cryptic message from paul on my answering machine.
clamor in the background and paul's voice, "MV?" more clamor. click.
i do not consider that message a confirmation for our friday lunch date.
friday morning i deliberate whether or not to call him. i call from work and leave a message on his voicemail. "i haven't heard from you, so i guess we'll just catch each other for lunch another time."
back at home, i see that paul has left two messages on my answering machine earlier that morning. the first to try to confirm the lunch date. the second an apology.
later that afternoon, when we finally do catch each other on the phone, we agree that we will have lunch the next day, saturday.
i am mildly surprised that i have still not heard from bookstore boy to make plans for the weekend, but i had told him that i'd be busy through friday, so i do not worry.
everything with paul runs smoothly on saturday. he calls in the morning to reconfirm and we meet at a restaurant near my house. i arrive before paul, which i find mildly annoying. after running into my ex-boyfriend's estranged roommate in the restaurant, i decide to wait by my car.
paul pulls into the space next to me and is talking on the phone. he waves and indicates that he'll need just another minute. still on the phone, he steps out of his car, and i am surprised by how short he is.
shortness. not usually a factor for me. i'm 5'2" and tend to gravitate toward mexican guys, who usually range in height from 5'6"-5'10." but paul stands maybe an inch taller than me. it occurrs to me that the night we met, he was sitting on a barstool. during our entire conversation, flirtation, i stood and he sat. my friends later joked that maybe that was his MO, to sit on a tall barstool and wait for women to approach.
once off the phone, paul greets me with a hug and we agree to have our lunch on the patio. the afternoon is perfect in austin, full of sun and breeze.
he asks if i'm drinking. i'm not. it's noon, and he's invited me for lunch. not drinks.
i order conservatively, the least expensive item on the menu, expecting that he will pay. he does.
we exchange pleasantries, small talk. he is still mildly flattering. i find myself speaking openly about my job and insecurities about my career. he similarly talks about his career. he hasn't gone to school, but decided to jump into the corporate world. we talk about books, and i realize that we don't have much in common on that front. he talks about his upcoming vacation, a week-long cruise. he'll be leaving in two days.
overall, it is a pleasant lunch.
but there are no sparks.
once we are at our cars, he makes a movement toward me. circumventing his motion, i kiss him awkwardly on the cheek good-bye. a flash of disappointment crosses his face. i tell him he should call me when he gets back from his cruise.
almost as soon as i am back in my car, i pull out my cellphone to check for missed calls. there is one voicemail message. i am certain that it is bookstore boy.
it isn't. and the disappoinment is now mine.
posted @ 3:37 PM
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