Lawyering Through Life

Developments

On Friday night, over bourbon and beers, my Roommate announced that she was gearing up to end her relationship. The bourbon made her just comfortable enough to discuss it, and frankly, the amount of attention she was attracting while sitting at the bar, helped a little too. I was sad to hear it because her boyfriend is a great guy, but I’ve never really thought he was the guy for her. She has mentally checked out of the relationship and now breaking up just seems like a formality. She took two guys’ phone numbers on Friday night and also received a witty cocktail napkin from another guy. I laughed along with her and then spent a good portion of Saturday debating when she could contact the Witty Napkin Guy.

At one point, she said, “Well, I don’t want to wait too long because that’s just not very nice.” She was in the kitchen and I was lounging in front of the TV so she couldn’t see my reaction. Um…you are worried about his feelings? Shouldn’t the primary concern be Boyfriend’s feelings and not the feelings of a guy who while witty is a COMPLETE STRANGER? I couldn’t help pointing out the irony. I really hope she actually sticks with her guns and ends it. And not so that we can spend more nights like Friday, because really, way too many beers but because I care about them and want them both to be happy.

So, that was Roommate’s weekend. Mine goes like this:

Number of boys who landed my phone number this weekend: 2.
Number of boys who called me on Sunday: 2.
Number of boys I actually spoke to on the phone: 0.

I hate the phone. I really do. I talk on the phone reluctantly as I am not very good on the phone. In person, I am great. Over email, even better! But I do not shine on the phone.
I get nervous, talk too quickly, and am just not myself. If you are calling me to make plans, well, let’s get that done and then hang up. I am not the girl you call to just chat. Since many of my good friends live far away, I reserve my phone time for them and everyone else gets short and to the point conversations.

The first boy to call me on Sunday was the bouncer I had given my number to on Saturday night. He was tall, muscular, wore an earring…so not my type. But he was very nice and I wound up talking to him a lot. Or I think that was my justification for giving him my number. When it was my turn to grab a round of beers, the bartender had to go to the back and re-stock, so he made me do shots while I waited. Okay, he gave them to me for free and I did not turn them down. Except for the tequila shot. I know better than that. Piecing together my conversations with Bouncer Guy was a rather difficult task. Bouncer Guy first called while I was at church yesterday morning, seeking absolution for my behavior and a reprieve for my hangover. God laughed at both requests. I listened to his message, which was very nice, and was rather stunned he had called so quickly. I then went out to lunch with a friend and when I got home, I noticed that he had called again. This message, again very nice, started out by him saying, “Looks like we are playing phone tag!”

Um, no. A game of phone tag involves two people missing each other’s return phone calls. Bouncer Guy, you have not been tagged. He then called again while I was tutoring but this time didn’t leave a message. I know I should call him back but I will most likely wait for a time when he won’t answer. So bad. I know. To be clear: I really hate the phone and would much rather send him a courier pigeon. Anything but call him.

The second boy to call me was a boy I met out on Friday night with Roommate. He was tall, cute, and very nice. The Editrix’s husband has a little bit of a thing for him already. He was very nice and attentive…so, we’ll see. I didn’t answer when he called BUT I did call him back shortly thereafter. He didn’t answer and then when he called back, I was watching the lovely Rob Lowe reprise his West Wing character of Sam Seaborn, except as a Republican on ABC.

Is it bad that I am hoping he calls during 24 tonight so I have a ready made excuse not to answer? I really need to get over my fear of the phone. In my defense, I used to have Belle make my hair appointments and order me pizza in college. I now perform those tasks myself, even though I always get flustered, go into information overload, and wind up telling the receptionist at my hair salon what I had for breakfast.

posted by jersey @ 12:26 PM