On Thursday, after spending the morning writing letters and drinking coffee, I walked over to the grocery store to pick up some more yogurt. I could write an ode to it just about now. It is so. good.
I was almost there when Mr. Moped passed me, this time in a car. He slowed for a minute when he saw me, and I sent an earnest prayer to the Buddha that Mr. Moped would just continue on his way. My entreaties to God haven't been doing me any good; I think he is just vastly amused at my discomfort.
Instead of stopping completely, he swung his car around, passed me again and roared off back down the street, and into what I presume is his driveway.
I knew Buddha would listen better. I peacefully embarked on my shopping.
Twenty minutes later, rushing to get back before the sky opened up, I heard the now all too familiar sound of a moped put-putting along.
Damn Buddha; you're just as bad as God is.
He pulled up, and as is his custom, offered the back of his moped in all its glory. I just shook my head. He burrowed his face in his hands and moaned in what seemed to be utter agony. He looked up to see if his outpouring of grief had made any difference.
I just shook my head again.
He resumed his remarkably bad acting, and I tried to suppress the bubbles of laughter pushing upward, while trying to look suitably sympathetic to his terrible plight.
Finally, he took off, and as the sound of his moped faded into the distance, I collapsed in laughter.
I honestly find this behavior mildly refreshing compared to the lilly-livered approach of 95 percent of North American males:
"So yeah....are you free sometime this week, because I might be free - I dunno - I would have to check, but if I am free and you are free, maybe we should meet up for coffee. I mean, if you like coffee... I guess I like it, but if you don't, then, like, let's maybe do something else. OH! You do like coffee, well so do I, it's pretty good stuff. So yeah, let's do something, maybe, at some point. I mean, if you want you can bring along that friend you always hang out with, I will probably bring someone along too. I mean, unless you want to spend time alone together - but HAH - I am not saying that you do, but, like, if you did, then maybe it would be nice to be alone. Although I don't want it to be weird so maybe not? I dunno, what do you think?"
*Pause for breath*
"Anyway, it would be cool to meet up. So, just send me a message and let me know where and when, and we can go from there."
At which point, one is left vastly confused. Does he want to be friends? Does he want to go out on a date? Is he using me to get to meet my friend so he can ask her out? He mentioned bringing his friend - was that a weird way of telling me he is gay? Does he like coffee? Why is he leaving the planning up to me, since he is the one who broached the subject?
Is figuring out the answer to any these questions worth my time and energy?
Absolutely, most assuredly.... not.
Stop drinking the estrogen filled water, boys. It's making you weird.