So, today, a slight monkey wrench was tossed into the delicate machinery that is my courtship of Jetson the Cute Receptionist. Things had been progressing at a moderate clip, with the frequent trading of sly compliments, bon mots, and candy or other dry goods. And, although it was terribly embarrassing for me personally when I took that sledgehammer and pounded �ASK ME OUT� in Morse code on that anvil yesterday, it really just stoked the fires of his self-confidence (say what you will about people who make obvious plays for your attention [read: me], it is quite flattering in its own, creepy, Vertigo kind of way).
But things were good! I hadn�t exactly tried to be subtle about the little crush I had on him, and although he insisted on playing the Pronoun Game with me (�I was dating this�person in college, and they were on the swim team along with their identical twin�sibling�� like, just assign a fucking gender already, as if my gaydar is really being fooled by your clever cloaking device), he wasn�t exactly hiding his interest in our flirtation, either. This is why it came as quite a shock to me today when I discovered that, oh, by the way, HE�S DATING SOMEONE!
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I�ve spent the better part of the last couple weeks priming the pump, only to discover that the pump has been getting his handle cranked on a regular basis by someone four years my junior. And while we�re (sort of) on the topic, when did it stop being illegal to date someone four years my junior? Not only do I feel stupid for fawning over this guy like some kind of toadying sycophant, but now I also feel a bit like the unpurchased carton of milk on the day that the shelves get restocked, and everyone goes for the jug in the back with the farther off expiration date. Like, I�m still good, you guys! I�m still a perfectly fine carton of milk! Like there�s anything wrong with mature milk anyway, you perverted freak. Why don�t you purchase a carton of milk your own age?
But I�m getting off-track (believe it or not). Why was this relationship not brought to my attention sooner? I mean, it�s not like I asked the guy to bone me, or anything (at least, not in so many words), but if someone started putting the moves on me and I was otherwise emotionally engaged -- and I realize that one glance at the more or less barren landscape of my romantic history will betray just how fantastic this scenario is, but just bear with me here -- I would hope that I�d have enough respect for the person I was dating not to flirt behind their back! Or at least, not flirt seriously. I mean, flirting all in good fun is one thing, but deliberately avoiding mention of your significant other when flirting with someone who's flirting in earnest is a little shady, I think.
I guess, to be honest (if I have to be honest), I�m not devastated or anything. I mean, Jetson was cute, and I was quickly working my hormones into a lather at the prospect of making out with him, but things could have been much worse. I mean, I could have made some incredibly transparent comment, laying completely bare my romantic intentions in a way that came across as passive-aggressive and more than a little desperate, except, oh wait, I TOTALLY DID! But I could have actually asked him out, only to be shot down faster than the Red Baron and left to wallow in a stagnant puddle of what little remaining dignity to which I could still lay claim, and that did not happen. Thank God.
I mean, I�ve got enough perspective to know that this really isn�t that big of a deal, but I am left feeling quite awkward about the whole thing. I mean, flirting with someone else�s boyfriend skeeves me, and I don�t really want to continue in that vein�but I haven�t ever really talked to him without flirting, so what kind of balance can I reach that won�t come across as obvious and weird? I guess what lies before me is that difficult road of trying to salvage my pride, while maintaining a cordial relationship with him and not looking like I�m a totally neurotic headcase who flipped out and went on a moral bender as a result of finding out that our casual flirtation was a bit more casual on his end than I would have otherwise liked.
Just between us, I have a feeling that last part is going to be the hardest.
No offense, but Charlie kinda creeps me out.
