A couple of phone conversations further underscoring the fact that I’m not boring enough. What is it with you people?
M: You’re pretty urban, aren’t you?
Me: Urban?
M: Very at home in the city. The noise, the traffic, the craziness, the things that happen when you carry your accordion around…
Me: I guess so. Until I went to Kingston, Toronto was the least urban place I’d ever lived in.
M: Your life is a little…fast. I don’t know if I could keep up with that kind of thing.
And shortly after that, she stopped returning my messages.
Maybe what happened on our date freaked her out more than I thought.
Me: So, hypothetically speaking, going out with me would be a bad idea because…?
R: Our lifestyles are way too different. I wear suits to work, you wear skater shirts and running shoes. You like to go out; I like to stay in. I like well-planned weekends; you once flew to DC so that some girl wouldn’t have to see the Dalai Lama alone…
Me: Hey, I had some airline points and she was cute. Besides, the Dalai Lama is one deep brutha.
R: Last week, you just hopped in your car and drove to Guelph to gather around a bonfire with people you didn’t know!
Me: I was invited, and I needed to get outdoors. I’d been cooped in a conference hotel in the blandest part of NoCal all week!
R: All that stuff — it’s just not my kind of thing.
How boring — or is stable a better word — do I have to be?
I don’t have any tattoos or piercings because I hate needles. I take my vitamins every day. I’m a non-smoker, I have no drug addictions and I don’t go on serious benders very often. I clear my credit card balance at the end of every month. I visit my parents every Sunday for our family dinner. I know which fork is for salad and which is for the main course. I have never had to phone for bail money from a Mexican holding cell. For Chrissake, I have white couches!
(Seriously, if white non-IKEA, non-discount, non-hand-me-down couches don’t say “stable”, I don’t know what does.)
More later…
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