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Authors: Devan Sipher
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he asked for my phone number.”
Of course he did,
I thought,
because that’s what normal people do.
If only I had done the same, I could be dating the right Melinda.
“I wouldn’t give it to him,” Amy said flatly. I didn’t think I heard right. “He looked about as confused as you do now,” she said with a laugh.
I prided myself on not being so transparent, but I
was
confused. “You said you thought he was attractive.”
“I don’t give my number to random guys on the subway,” she said.
“But you had a spark,” I sputtered. “He gave you his seat.” If a guy like Mike Russo couldn’t seal the deal, I had no chance whatsoever.
“So he was a polite, random guy. Do you know how many freaks there are in this city? And speaking of freaks, the next morning he was waiting for me on the uptown subway platform. Right here at Union Square.”
“How did he know what time you left for work?”
“How did he even know where I lived?” she said, pushing aloose strand of straight, dark hair behind her ear. It was the same shoulder length as Melinda’s. “When he saw me get off the train, I could have been going to dinner or visiting a friend. It’s crazy. He’s crazy. He got to the station at six in the morning and waited until I showed up at eight thirty.” I was impressed that he made such an effort. Especially since there was no guarantee he would even see her.
“He came over and said, ‘Good morning,’ like it was the most natural thing in the world, shooting me this big toothy smile. I asked him what he was smiling about, and he said, ‘I can’t help but smile when I see you,’ which is the corniest line ever. Which I told him. He told me he could come up with cornier ones, and after three years together I can tell you he wasn’t lying. So I asked him if he lived in the area, and he said, ‘No. I’m just here to invite you to dinner.’ I couldn’t believe his audacity.” Neither could I, but he was a camera-ready dating professional. Mere mortals couldn’t be expected to be that ballsy.
“I told him I had plans,” she said.
“How did that go over?” I was very curious how a guy like Mike handled being turned down.
“The next morning he was there again.” He had just become my hero. “This time with Starbucks coffee and mini cupcakes from Crumbs Bake Shop. He asked me out again, and I said no again.”
“Why?” I found myself taking the rejection personally. This wasn’t just an interview anymore; it was an education. After my missteps of the past week, this was my chance to penetrate the labyrinth of the female mind. “What did he do wrong?”
She bit her lip and seemed to be deliberating about sharing more. “I just didn’t feel like going out,” she finally said. “I had a bad breakup a month beforehand. The guy I had dated since college dumped me at my sister’s big, fat Chinese wedding. I wasthe maid of honor, so I was wearing this cheesy fuchsia bridesmaid dress and my hair was all in ringlets. Which took hours. Before the ceremony we were posing for pictures in a vintage convertible, and he told me he had fallen in love with someone else. So let’s just say that I wasn’t keen on romance when I met Mike. As my Grandma Jade used to say, if you let someone sweep you off your feet, you better be prepared to land on your ass.”
“So what changed things?” It was a standard question in my repertoire, but I really wanted to know. I was no longer a journalist. I was a lonely guy seeking vital knowledge. Something fundamental I was supposed to have learned years ago. I feared that my academic honors at Cornell had come at the expense of an incomplete grade in Relationships 101.
“He kept showing up with coffee and cupcakes, and I kept turning him down.”
“You turned down the cupcakes?”
“No. The dinner invitation. I love cupcakes.” She smiled, and for a moment she looked about twelve. “Then a week later, there was a power outage on the subway. No
Of course he did,
I thought,
because that’s what normal people do.
If only I had done the same, I could be dating the right Melinda.
“I wouldn’t give it to him,” Amy said flatly. I didn’t think I heard right. “He looked about as confused as you do now,” she said with a laugh.
I prided myself on not being so transparent, but I
was
confused. “You said you thought he was attractive.”
“I don’t give my number to random guys on the subway,” she said.
“But you had a spark,” I sputtered. “He gave you his seat.” If a guy like Mike Russo couldn’t seal the deal, I had no chance whatsoever.
“So he was a polite, random guy. Do you know how many freaks there are in this city? And speaking of freaks, the next morning he was waiting for me on the uptown subway platform. Right here at Union Square.”
“How did he know what time you left for work?”
“How did he even know where I lived?” she said, pushing aloose strand of straight, dark hair behind her ear. It was the same shoulder length as Melinda’s. “When he saw me get off the train, I could have been going to dinner or visiting a friend. It’s crazy. He’s crazy. He got to the station at six in the morning and waited until I showed up at eight thirty.” I was impressed that he made such an effort. Especially since there was no guarantee he would even see her.
“He came over and said, ‘Good morning,’ like it was the most natural thing in the world, shooting me this big toothy smile. I asked him what he was smiling about, and he said, ‘I can’t help but smile when I see you,’ which is the corniest line ever. Which I told him. He told me he could come up with cornier ones, and after three years together I can tell you he wasn’t lying. So I asked him if he lived in the area, and he said, ‘No. I’m just here to invite you to dinner.’ I couldn’t believe his audacity.” Neither could I, but he was a camera-ready dating professional. Mere mortals couldn’t be expected to be that ballsy.
“I told him I had plans,” she said.
“How did that go over?” I was very curious how a guy like Mike handled being turned down.
“The next morning he was there again.” He had just become my hero. “This time with Starbucks coffee and mini cupcakes from Crumbs Bake Shop. He asked me out again, and I said no again.”
“Why?” I found myself taking the rejection personally. This wasn’t just an interview anymore; it was an education. After my missteps of the past week, this was my chance to penetrate the labyrinth of the female mind. “What did he do wrong?”
She bit her lip and seemed to be deliberating about sharing more. “I just didn’t feel like going out,” she finally said. “I had a bad breakup a month beforehand. The guy I had dated since college dumped me at my sister’s big, fat Chinese wedding. I wasthe maid of honor, so I was wearing this cheesy fuchsia bridesmaid dress and my hair was all in ringlets. Which took hours. Before the ceremony we were posing for pictures in a vintage convertible, and he told me he had fallen in love with someone else. So let’s just say that I wasn’t keen on romance when I met Mike. As my Grandma Jade used to say, if you let someone sweep you off your feet, you better be prepared to land on your ass.”
“So what changed things?” It was a standard question in my repertoire, but I really wanted to know. I was no longer a journalist. I was a lonely guy seeking vital knowledge. Something fundamental I was supposed to have learned years ago. I feared that my academic honors at Cornell had come at the expense of an incomplete grade in Relationships 101.
“He kept showing up with coffee and cupcakes, and I kept turning him down.”
“You turned down the cupcakes?”
“No. The dinner invitation. I love cupcakes.” She smiled, and for a moment she looked about twelve. “Then a week later, there was a power outage on the subway. No
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