So a few things since last time:
You may recall that this boy sent me a text message asking if I received the mix tapes he left right under my face. I did not respond to him. And I feel pretty crummy about that. However, I did warn him that I rarely answer my phone and am very slow with text messages, so he was at least slightly prepared for it. I wanted to say something- something that might deter him- but couldn't think of the right response, so I just never did. And 8 days after he sent it, I deleted it from my inbox.
Anyway, I woke up this morning and checked my email for a response from my boss, hoping the message would just say: "Of course, Claire! We are hiring 4 more employees so the workload will be lighter and when you go on vacation no one will hate you!" And of course the next thing I did (after receiving a much less helpful reply) was check Facebook.
Most days there is nothing new to see in the morning because I was on the computer late the night before, but this morning I found a message in my inbox. It was not a book club reminder, or a request for prayers, or something from my roommate saying "I found a lamp! It's perfect; there are owls ALL OVER IT," but an invitation to dinner from him.
I've decided to share it with you. I wasn't sure if that would be a mean thing or not, but it helps the story to know exactly what was said. Subj:Hey Claire-
I've come to the park a couple times to tell you that I would like to take you out to dinner. but you look so busy, and I feel bad to pull you away from your job.
Would you like to go to dinner with me?
This short note reveals several things.
- I was a lot better at hiding my uncomfortableness and get-me-outta-here face than I though I was
- He restarted his Facebook.
- He has been watching me at work without my knowledge.
For those of you that don't know, the Citadel is a military college in Charleston with no affiliation to any branch of the military, where young men (and a handful of women) willingly attend four years of mandatory ROTC. The freshman are called "knobs" because their bald heads are so shiny and round, they look like they might open doors.
My friend at the time was asked on a date and refused to go alone (because honestly, they're a bit creepy- especially when they hang around outside the girls' dorm on a Saturday night like piranhas) so I went with her for moral support. After the "date"-which was mostly me listening to how great the Citadel is because the older kids beat you with sticks and freshman can't use condiments- we went home, impressed that we had had a truly collegiate experience.
Two days later, I decide on a whim to listen to a friend's band on Myspace (Absence of Ocean- check em out) and check my homepage which I haven't been to in ages. Because let's face it, Myspace is the creepy abandoned theme park of the internet. And I have a friend request. From the knob! The knob who never learned my last name. Creepy. I said yes anyway, went to his page and he has two friends: Me, and Tom the Myspace Guy. Which led me to the obvious conclusion that he created a Myspace just to friend me.
back to the hipster: So I saw his back-on-facebookness and I drew a similar conclusion. That may be a bit self-centered. I dunno. Either way, he's back on the internets.
Anyway, the bigger issue. #3- he has been watching me while I'm at work. Watching me. Enough to discern that I was too busy to talk to him. GAH.
So hopefully that is the end of the story. I let him down gently, via FB message, which I hate to do b/c that is a lame way to communicate about this sort of thing. And he ended it with "see you at Trivia" so I don't think there are any hard feelings. But it could mean a pretty awkward Friday at Starbucks.