Ecce Metro
Mar. 9th, 2007 11:27 amHe blamed it on the book he had unobtrusively picked up a few towns back and slipped into her bag.
It had a soothing blue cover, emblazoned with a picture of a smiling woman and a discreet font that read, "How to Be Charming". Beneath that, in smaller print, was "A Guide to Being Personable". While waiting in a doctor's office while she got her arm stitched up--"Bad dog bite," she said to the sympathetic doctor, "His owner let him off his leash."--he had seen an advertisement in a Woman's Day magazine from May 2003 for the book, and had quietly canvassed every bookstore on the East coast until he found it.
Of course, he had expected her to find it, twist her lips in a grimace of displeasure, then make sure it turned up in the wastebasket in the most pointed message garbage had ever made.
Instead, she had taken exaggerated care to ask him if he was okay with everything they did, would they mind if they ate sushi again, did he want her to hold the door open for him?
Today's lesson apparently was to take interest in other people's lives.
"So," she said with a hint of awkwardness in her voice, "what did you want to be when you grew up?"
"What is this, first grade?" he said, slouching in his seat defensively.
She gave him a reproachful look. "I was trying to be sociable."
That was deliberate, the avoidance of the word 'personable'.
"Sorry. Um. I don't know. I just kind of figured eventually something would click."
"Eventually?" The car slowed and they circled to the backseat, hauling bags and a suspicious looking set of golf club holders out. He stared at her a second, and she tossed him a pack. "You gonna work?"
"Don't mind me," he said, shrugging. "I'm just waiting for lunch."
"Kind of a metaphor for your whole life, huh? Just waiting for lunch."
He followed her into the hotel, mulling it over. "Well. Yes."
She motioned for him to drop the bags, then rooted around in one and tossed him a soothing blue book.
"Read while you're waiting."
He flipped it over, amused to see someone had crossed out the title and wrote in a black scrawl, "How To Be A Sissy".
It had a soothing blue cover, emblazoned with a picture of a smiling woman and a discreet font that read, "How to Be Charming". Beneath that, in smaller print, was "A Guide to Being Personable". While waiting in a doctor's office while she got her arm stitched up--"Bad dog bite," she said to the sympathetic doctor, "His owner let him off his leash."--he had seen an advertisement in a Woman's Day magazine from May 2003 for the book, and had quietly canvassed every bookstore on the East coast until he found it.
Of course, he had expected her to find it, twist her lips in a grimace of displeasure, then make sure it turned up in the wastebasket in the most pointed message garbage had ever made.
Instead, she had taken exaggerated care to ask him if he was okay with everything they did, would they mind if they ate sushi again, did he want her to hold the door open for him?
Today's lesson apparently was to take interest in other people's lives.
"So," she said with a hint of awkwardness in her voice, "what did you want to be when you grew up?"
"What is this, first grade?" he said, slouching in his seat defensively.
She gave him a reproachful look. "I was trying to be sociable."
That was deliberate, the avoidance of the word 'personable'.
"Sorry. Um. I don't know. I just kind of figured eventually something would click."
"Eventually?" The car slowed and they circled to the backseat, hauling bags and a suspicious looking set of golf club holders out. He stared at her a second, and she tossed him a pack. "You gonna work?"
"Don't mind me," he said, shrugging. "I'm just waiting for lunch."
"Kind of a metaphor for your whole life, huh? Just waiting for lunch."
He followed her into the hotel, mulling it over. "Well. Yes."
She motioned for him to drop the bags, then rooted around in one and tossed him a soothing blue book.
"Read while you're waiting."
He flipped it over, amused to see someone had crossed out the title and wrote in a black scrawl, "How To Be A Sissy".