Old Blog - 7.10.2007

Tuesday, July 10, 2007 

WTF? G2G. Current mood:  apathetic So I have had a crush on the Wine Boy for about six months now. Every Friday around 2:00 I conveniently run into him in the lobby of Wieden and Kennedy as I go to get the mail and he puts together the wine lists for Blue Hour. Week after week we have quick, overly friendly exchanges and I have walked away nervous, elated, and disappointed all at once. A week and a half ago he finally asked for my number. Four days later he called. The next day we hung out. It was the first time I could actually honestly say I have enjoyed a first "date" (not-so-distant memories of Streetcar Boy and Blind Date Boy still make me twitch). He walked me home like a gentleman and said "I'll call you tomorrow." But he didn't. He still hasn't. It's been almost a week. He has, however, text messaged back and forth with me until my inbox fills up and blinks at me in red. We message like two adolescents on IM - asking asinine questions just to generate a response from the other person. But they never go anywhere. Though he always initiates these text sessions, not in a single one has he asked me out again. To put it mildly, I am perplexed.  My Friend-Formerly-Known-as-Nartan gets on my case all the time for being too traditional. While he has stopped trying to convince me to have casual sex with random people, he did speak up about this situation: "Maybe he's shy, Meredith. Maybe he wants you to do the asking." "But I don't WANT to do the asking, Nartan." "Why not? Why do you have to be the one who is asked out?" "Because I deserve to be asked out!!" "Of course you do. But if you're looking for a guy who is going to take control, he is CLEARLY not the one. You keep getting attracted to these shy guys and then you get mad when they don't take the intiative." Touche. Okay. So yesterday I sat on a bench outside of Whole Foods on my lunch break and called the Wine Boy. It took me three tries before I recorded a message that sounded casual and nonchalant, but I did it. I invited him to go running with me after work. He responded a few hours later. By text message. He sent me another one later that night, around 10:15, that said, "Whatcha doin?" I told him I was getting ready to go to bed. He said, "Ok, I'll call you tomorrow." Then he didn't. What the fuck. I can handle rejection: it's cut and dry, black and white.(Other trite phrases can be inserted here. You get it.) So what is this text-message-tango horse shit? I quit. Or, as Lindsay commented tonight about the situation - ironically, by text message - "WTF? No more games. You are dead to me now. Too good for a wine guy." I guess he and I are just not MFEO. I'll survive, I suppose. The good news is I always have at least two or three crushes juggling at once. My poor girlfriends and mother have to hear all about them ad nauseum. Today's heat broke records in Portland. I like the heat. Even now, in my toasty apartment, as I will be forced to sleep on my couch to catch some of the breeze generated by my ceiling fan, I like it. I like summer.