Thursday, November 21, 2002
( 8:06 AM ) Rebecca
Am infatuated with (incoherent mumbling here).
WHO? The one who was banned for bad behavior??
Yes, OK, him. And I already explained about the bad behavior and how he apologized!
HMM. The one who talks about himself all the time, hardly asks you any questions about yourself, and yet while talking about himself constantly has revealed nary a personal detail? Who is, in other words, as slippery as a banana peel?
The doctor. You’re infatuated with the f***ing doctor.
(Incoherent mumbling here.)
So what about the NICE boys that like you? The ones who move things along at a normal pace and tell you they’re going to call you, and then do, and don’t need seven shots of Jim Beam to put their arm around you? For example, MEMPHIS BOY, have you already forgotten about him! Poor MB, who had to jet off to Memphis for a month for family reasons and writes you longing e-mails asking you to come visit?
And that nice, sexy Mountain Man! Who let you hide on his shoulder during “The Ring” and looks at you with rapt attention when you talk and who is a lover of the outdoors and who, if you play your cards right, will take you on great adventures? I mean the doctor is f***ing lazy. He told you as much.
So why? Why do you need to go get hung up on him?
He’s uh… glamorous?
He’s, uh… a tall, dark, handsome Jewish doctor who went to Yale?
Well I’m glad to know it’s not for superficial reasons, at least!
Hey, lay off will you?! I mean this is all biological anyway! It’s not my fault the doctor whips me into a frenzy! I’m just trying to find the best-looking, smartest mate with the highest earning potential! But it’s not me who’s trying. It’s my genes! Plus, he seems…deep.
Beneath that slippery surface, there’s a lot going on. He’s creative and passionate and caring. I think.
OK, just keep telling yourself that. I guess your l'il date must have gone well on Saturday, then?
So’d you get any?
What?? You know I don’t do that anymore! But he did put his arm around me and hold my hand.
Did he kiss you?
No he didn’t really kiss me. He sort of put his lips everywhere, though. Kinda like halfway between kissing and smelling.
But it was sexy!
Uh-huh. So what’d you do on your l'il date?
We went to dinner and karaoke. And I wore a slinky dress and had just gotten my hair cut and looked really good. In fact, I’ll probably never look better again. And when I sang “The Rose,” I saw it in his face. That was when he really started to like me.
Oh ho ho. So you think he likes you?
Well, I don’t know. Maybe.
Did he say something about when you’d go out again? In another MONTH? A YEAR maybe?
So you’re going to play hard to get, right?
I WAS going to, but…
No, you didn’t. Did you?
You asked him out? Already? You couldn’t have waited at least a week?
(Incoherent mumbling here.)
And, what did he say?
He said yes!
Oh shit. When are you going out?
Christ, girl. You're in trouble now.
Yeah, I know. And I have absolutely NOTHING to wear!
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