I first noticed him one Friday several months ago. I was coming out of my January/February torpor and had decided to dress up for an evening out. Once out, I was mingling amongst my friends and, as I crossed the room, #123 and I passed each other. I smiled. He smiled.
Things progressed from there as they usually do: invisible to the naked eye. As the days ticked by, I’d see him out and he’d be helping out with things—putting out snacks, restocking the cups, making sure the speakers were working—and so, naturally, I’d tease him. "Oh, that's right, you're the fluffer," I'd say. For the record, I wasn't the one who came up with the nickname. Otherwise, we were mostly hi/bye friends. Then, one night, we ended up seated next to each other. We leaned our heads together, commenting on some of the people in the room. He pointed out one guy’s “murse,” saying it was a nice one.
“Murse?”
“Man purse. This is mine,” he said and then pulled a bag out from under the chair.
“Very nice,” I said. It was also very nice that he had a sense of humor.
The next night, at Heidi's party at the Gershwin Hotel, it was about 1:30 a.m. and things were starting to wind down. We’d moved the dancing from the dance floor to the lounge and suddenly there he was. He’d been there since 11 p.m., he said, but had spent most of his time on the dance floor. I’d been there since 10 p.m., I said, but had spent most of my time in the lounge. Like two ships....
...Anyway, I did some more talking. “I didn’t recognize you without your glasses,” I said. He did look totally different. In a white shirt, he actually looked kind of suave. “With your glasses on, you usually look like Buddy Holly.”
He shrugged.
I do this sometimes. I have this habit of saying things to people and I mean them as a compliment, but, instead of saying, “You look like Buddy Holly, which is totally adorable,” I say, “You look like Buddy Holly," which, clearly, is an observation, not a compliment. As a result, the comment's target doesn’t know what to make of it. I might as well be saying, “I like broccoli.”
After my Buddy Holly comment, instead of learning my lesson, I kept non-complimenting him.
“The way you’re sitting with your arm across the back of the sofa looks like the opening scene in Mad Men.”
“I see you like to dance.”
“You’re dressed differently from how I normally see you.”
Would somebody please stop me? Fortunately, we did a little dancing and then the clock struck 2 a.m. and everyone headed for the coat check. A girl sidled up to him. I don’t know where she’d been while we were dancing, but I wondered if she was with him. Maybe his indifference was not due to the things I was saying but, rather, due to the fact that he wasn’t exactly unattached.
I put on my coat and waved good-bye as I walked out of the room. He waved back.
Signs of Hope: He always seems interested when I see him.
Red Flags: I felt a vague sense of indifference wafting from his direction. Is he just shy? Does he have a girlfriend? Was he not really interested? Did my non-complimentary remarks turn him off?
Turning Point: Dunno. I don't think there's been enough of a buildup to warrant a turning point. Yet.
Diagnosis: For him: Generally, if I’m attracted to someone, eventually they turn out to be somehow unavailable.
For me: It’s nice to have a little bit of a post-#120/#121 crush.
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