Graduation Day and a Doormat

Here it is, Monday again.

On Friday, when I remembered that LBG’s graduation was this week, I distinctly remembered her telling me “Monday the thirteenth” but it wasn’t until this morning, that I realized that that didn’t quite fit. That it was either, Monday the twelfth or Tuesday the thirteenth. Not some twisted combination of both.

Shortly after I got to work, G sent me an IM to say good morning.

“Good morning! What the hell day is LBG’s graduation?! Is it today? Or tomorrow? Where is it? What time?”

You would think I would have kept SOME of these details in the memory bank. But I didn’t. It snuck up so quickly that I didn’t even have time to prepare. (Actually, I imagine it happened at the regular rate of speed but my brain does not function on that same rate.)

G got me sorted to an extent but only had the correct date to offer.

“Today?! Dammit, I thought it was tomorrow!”

So began the scramble. Since I had agreed to ride with my Pseudo Twin, I had to get in touch with her and work out some details. (And see if she knew anything at all outside of “the graduation is today”.) She knew the time, but not the place. This was at about noon and I still didn’t know if I would be able to leave early (thanks to Mail Merge From HELL).

LBG says to get there early so we have a seat. G has an appointment at 4, so he isn’t sure what time he will be out. PT has to finish running errands and then find out if Pantera Boy will be off in time to come with us.

The plan, we have established, will go like this.

4:15- PT is to call me and let me know whether or not PB will be joining us.
4:30- Leave work.
5:00- Meet PT (and PB) at my house.
5:15- Be terribly lost downtown.
6:25- Finally finish parking and call G to tell him we didn’t save him a seat because we are directionally challenged.
6:30- Enter at the very last possible moment and find G with the seats that he has saved for us.

That’s the plan. It helps to have one, even if you must allow time for being lost and a little slow.

In other news, a couple of months ago I was in the cafeteria with Mrs. P at work, and I spun around to go in the opposite direction and found myself standing face to face with a guy that I had gone to middle school with and then later worked with at The Stupid Loop, as I call it. SM was a really dorky, desperate to prove himself to everyone and be liked by all, kind of guy. He used to bring me roses on his days off and once, when I cut my finger he made me a milkshake and bandaged me up. He is a nice guy, much too needy, and much, MUCH too annoying and puppydog-esque for my taste…but there he was. Evidently, he just started working at the hospital. Hooray.

He looked the same. Still skinny and tall. Still very eager to prove himself. Still annoying.

I, of course, acted happy to see him, while, ll the while, envisioning myself trying to avoid him in the halls and having to fake a smile when he caught me off guard.

The next week, I ran into him once. He called my desk twice and suggested a lunch date. I kindly declined, saying that I had so much to do that I wasn’t sure that I would even have lunch that day. The next day he sent an email venting about problems with this girlfriend. Problems that, after not seeing or speaking to someone in almost six years, I don’t need to hear about at all. But again, I felt bad and humored him. After that day, he didn’t call or write again. And I hadn’t run into him. And I had almost forgotten about the encounters.

Until today.

Today, the phone rings and I can see by my caller ID that the call is coming from his department.

“………standard work greeting……..”

“You owe me a lunch hour.”

“Um…well, I can’t today, I have to leave early.”

“Well, okay, not today, but sometime this week, we should catch up!”

“Okay, sure.”

“S and I parted ways this weekend.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” (Shuffle paper, shuffle paper, shuffle paper)

“Yeah, well, you know, it had to be done. I found myself wanting to date other people, you know.”

“Okay, I better get back to work. Sorry.” (shuffle paper…)

“Okay, well…I-uh…I’ll call you later in the week then. You know, for lunch or whatever.”

“Right. Bye!” Click.

I don’t want to have lunch with him. And not because he isn’t a good guy. But because he is the kind of guy that I find myself either being really mean to or not speaking to at all. And the danger in not speaking at all is that then, I get to listen to all of his drama (because he is the straight, male equivalent of a Drama Queen) and become a friend because he takes my lack of speakage to mean that I am just a good listener. I don’t want to be a friend. I am much more content being where I was for that moment in time when he lost interest in me and started focusing his attention on another girl at work. Nikki? Becky? I dunno…Fill in standard blonde girl name here. That rocked. Because then, I could listen to him when I wanted to and then tell him to buck up and not take any shit. Not that it did any good. He will always be a doormat. And I have very little patience for that.

In the meantime, I will be conveniently busy at lunchtime until I can figure out a way to avoid a) smacking the shit out of him when he starts crying to me about his love life or b) becoming the silent lunch date who secretly wants to strangle him.