The Menace

You know your social life is stale when you get a phone call from a guy you go out with periodically, talk for a bit, and when you hang up think to yourself, "What a waste of 24 minutes! Just think of all the glitter I could have put on stuff in that amount of time!" Yep, that's where I'm at. I'm not even sure why he called, or why I ran from the other end of the house to answer. Maybe it was because we were supposed to go out this weekend. But now he "doesn't know" if that'll work out. I don't even think he noticed my sarcasm when I said, "That's OK, so-and-so. I'll just sit here, waiting for you to call me when it's convenient for you." Bah! Yeah right.
For the sake of being more sensitive (or something like that), we'll call the boy in question Dennis. Yes, Dennis seems like a good name. Anyway, so Dennis is a little on the boring side. Love him in many ways, but I wonder if he just called me because he was bored. Maybe he needed some entertainment. And things started off all right, I suppose. I told him it was good to hear from him (it had been a few days since our last communication via text message) and asked how he was, and what was new. He didn't have much to offer. Well, D isn't much of a talker. He can be, but you really have to work him into it. Usually, he does his best talking before we start kissing. I think he's just more attractive when he's animated. But last night, he gave me the standard, "Not much-- what's new with you?" line, and I took the bait. As a matter of fact, I DO have a lot going on in my life. I excitedly told him about my current foam-core creation, and how I was getting ready for Saturday's craft fair. I expressed my disappointment over having to miss "Thrill the World" and "Aida" as part of the "Live from the Met" series. I told him all about the new political campaign I've volunteered for, and some of my plans for research and grassroots efforts. I told him about a relative I have who is an expert in his field. And what did I get? A few grunts here and there. But at least there was some noise, so I knew we'd not been cut off.
I know no one likes to listen to even their most interesting friends ramble on and on, so I tried to engage him in conversation, but all he could contribute was, "I'm so tired." I didn't say it, but I really had to wonder why he'd call if he really had NOTHING to say, or was going to act so bored by my life. I actually asked him if he were on drugs, because I'd not heard him sound so lethargic and incoherent since the time he called me from the hospital to tell me his appendix had ruptured. Incidentally, that little event led me to visiting him and getting a major look at his naked backside, which was shocking and scarring, but also so funny that it made his drugged-up state quite humorous. Also, when he was under the influence of whatever pain medication they give you in the hospital, he confessed his love for me, which I found rather charming. But last night, he assured me he'd not taken anything, and I had to believe him because frankly, I liked him better on drugs.
Oh, the poor little chump. He's really not all that bad most of the time. In fact, he can be quite wonderful. But if this is some passive-aggressive stunt to propel me to giving him the boot, he can keep it. Really. I may not have another man in my life right now (except for the ones pictured a couple of posts ago), but I do have a full, beautiful existence. So I'm just sayin', the next time the phone rings and I'm up to my elbows in Elmer's, don't expect me to dive for the cellular.