Adieu le Feu

by

Mar 19, 2007

I’m ignoring the phone. 

It’s the fireman.  I don’t want to talk to him.

Yes, yes: I get the “be careful what you wish for” irony in the statement.

Ah but ladies, you should know better -- God always has a cloud for my silver lining and this time is no different.

For no apparent reason, the fireman sees me as Wife Material. 

I’m not shitting you.  He just will not let it go. 

Initially I thought it was bizarre that given that he had no desire to know me carnally – until it occurred to me that he had devised an especially accurate simulation of marriage.  What married people do you know who actually have sex? 

I found it all quite weird and unsettling – and until tonight, I thought I’d managed to weasel my way out of it.

Yes, yes, I’m taking the coward’s way out – or at least giving it a bloody good go. ( Plan 3, I think we agreed to call it a few columns ago.)

There’s nothing there, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings.  How do you say to someone: “Look you’re a great guy: now go away”?

I thought I’d gotten away with it when I failed to return his last call.

I didn’t speak to him for 10 suspenseful days – by Day 7, I was convinced I’d lost him -- then he called again tonight. I was SO close! Why won’t he just go away?  I thought I was free and clear there….on the other hand, the kitchen ceiling needs some work and I want a dimmer in my bedroom.

The first time he called was to invite me to go and see “300”.  Now, normally warrior movies are right up my alley in a pathetic, Trekkie way, but the thought of spending an evening with him – decent though he is, and a fireman to boot – rendered the idea significantly less appealing.

I don’t want to slag him because he really is nice (that “kiss of death” word when applied to men!) but we just have wildly differing agendas.   I am not going to waste my time or his.

That being said, I don’t think I’m going to be able to skulk my way out of this either.  (My fondest hope where this situation is concerned.)

This is going to require a Conversation.  I hate Conversations.

WTF am I going to say to the man that he shouldn’t already know? 

“There’s zero chemistry, our goals and aspirations are polar opposites and we are not attuned on a fundamental level in any respect.  Nothing personal.” 

I mean, for God’s sake! Was I the only one in the room??  I’ve never struggled so hard to keep a conversation alive in my life! 

While he looks good on paper, he bores me rigid.  So it’s not the scintillating conversation.  It can’t be sex because we don’t have any, so I’m baffled as to the nature of this guy’s apparent attachment to me.

And when did men morph into 1950s debutantes?

I am absolutely dreading seeing him again.  I know I just have to bite the bullet and do it, though it still freaks me out that it’s come to this.  To actually have to say it out loud, explicitly.  How can two people be in such entirely different universes?  

I won’t be cruel. I’ll try to tread that razor-thin line of honesty and tact.  Surely to God, this cannot come as a surprise to him.   I’ve never met a more incompatible person in my life.  It’s nobody’s fault. 

But I never dreamed I’d have to spell it out.

Shit!  The phone again. 

Guess who?

This time, he’s canceling.

Run away! Run away!

Till next time,

Morrigan