17 minutes…and thanks for coming in.
I call a woman this AM — get the VM — she calls me back while I’m leaving a message…but she’s with a friend, on her bike and our few minute conversation was interrupted every 30 seconds by her talking to her friend, other bikers, random people on the street…I felt like I was joining her in an Old Navy commercial.
“So, what are you doing today?”
“well, I have to work on this — ”
“Make a left now!”
This is a real pet peeve of mine. I’m not your friend. You don’t know me. I’m try to make a good impression and get to know you and it’s hard when you’re on your cell and got ADD and I’m just another distraction.
But after about 6 minutes, she says she’ll call me back later.
She calls at 7 and it’s better. And she’s tells me about her friend’s lousy boyfriend. I give a brilliant assessment of the situation. She’s impressed. And laughs.
She asks me where I’m from. I say Philly. And then I lived in New York.
And she says “Manhattan?”
“Well, we had a house in Long Island, then a house in Queens, then a house upstate, then a house in CT, then a house in________, and then a condo in Greenwich Village….”
“Wow. That’s a lot of houses.”
(We’re losing pressure, Captain.)
Then she corrects me on the difference between The High School for Performing Arts and Art And Music in NYC.
(Ship’s going down, Captain.)
She then volunteers that she was married when she moved to LA. And now divorced. And gave me short synopsis on her marriage and her ex’s professional failures (was a top chef for the studios and now cooks in a hospital) — she still sounded disappointed in his choices. “I saw potential in him he didn’t see himself.”
(I don’t like the sound and tone of this, Captain.)
“What about you?”
“What about me what?”
“Oh, was I married? No, nope…”
More silence. More rope to hang me with. This is starting to feel like a bad job interview.
I very, very briefly talk about moving her for a woman and that didn’t work out.
I get what’s happening — she’s trying to conduct a RELATIONSHIP AUTOPSY. This is not going to be pretty — either way — if I go into great detail or I avoid it. Either way I’m dead.
“Then I was with a girl from Italy and she had to move back for school and her family.”
HER: “Well, thanks for sharing that. I have to make dinner and have a lot of things to prep, so I got to go.”
ME: “Oh! Okay, then.
HER: See you later.
Time of death: 17 minutes and 20 seconds.