Of The St. Louis American
Okay, so remember the island man I spoke of who was trying to get me over to his place – even though he had to be reminded of my name?
Well, there’s a sequel to the madness of the seductive, yet pushy Caribbean lover man.
So, he calls me back, talking about how he wanted to come by my house and cook me breakfast. Sounds romantic, right? Well, it would have been if I actually knew him!
On this Sunday morning, I was still wore down from my Partyline picture-taking grind and wasn’t the least bit amused that he thought one and a half phone calls was enough credentials to get in the crib.
I tried as best I could in my sleep-induced haze to make him understand that it wasn’t happening. Then I had to politely suggest that I call him back when I was awake.
Six hours or so later, I rang him up and … yes, he was trying for a visit.
“Why don’t you come by and watch the soccer game with me?” he said, so seductively that it sounded tempting.
“Because I don’t know you,” I replied … though his voice had me conflicted.
I tried to make him understand that there would be no house calls anytime soon – that the prerequisite is remote locations first and a gradual progression into home visits.
He seemed confused, but we proceeded in a delightful discussion about the dismal state of the public schools system in America. It sounds nerdy and boring, but it was great.
And so we ended on a high note. I was actually interested in getting to know him … that was, until conversation three.
Exactly one week later, I called him back. I was hoping he would ask me out, but expecting him to offer to drop by. I was planning to once again shoot the idea out of his head, then we would chat it up until the next episode.
What actually went down was a series-finale cliffhanger.
“I’ve been calling you,” he said.
“I know. My work schedule is insane. I’m sorry. What’s up?” I replied.
He didn’t sound like himself. He then proceeded to give me bits and pieces of a situation that happened when he visited with his ex earlier in the day.
“If you don’t want to talk about it … or talk period right now, I can call you later,” I said after getting the vibe that he wasn’t in a good mood.
“Why are you so defensive?” he responded. “Are you insecure?”
I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone.
I said, “What are you talking about?” but I was thinking, “Are you crazy?”
Then he went on to say that he didn’t expect me to be so insecure with myself and that he didn’t understand why I never call him back.
Dude was yelling and got me all worked up about his tone.
Then after he scolded me for not calling me back, he said that “this relationship isn’t working” and that we need to consider how we can revamp things to make it work. That he makes provisions in his schedule to take the time to call me, and the least I could do is call him back.
In all fairness to him, he had been calling. But in all fairness to myself, my schedule is a mess.
But it was still no excuse to get all Assistant Principal in his tone with me. So naturally, my inner slick-mouth ratchet (which I’ve been in recovery from since 1993) broke loose.
“Relationship? We’ve talked on the phone three times … and obviously the third time is not the charm,” I said to him.
“And while you’re calling me insecure, you’re the one going off on a stranger because you think she doesn’t like you. Hopefully, you’re just having a moment. Call me when you get yourself together.”
He called me on Thanksgiving … but I’m already shopping for a midseason replacement.