July 12, 2011 § 5 Comments
How low must I sink?
My aunt met a man, bit of a rogue, very attractive according to her, artistic, a bachelor a couple of years or so younger than me.
He needed to ask my advice about something so he emailed me. I had never met him, but he was friendly enough so I emailed back. A correspondence began, quite larky. He was witty and our emails became quite flirtatious. He asked me out to lunch. The day that email came, there was a little lift in me, a pathetic frisson of, what, excitement, hope? I don’t know, it was better than no invitation out to lunch, even if he had been introduced to me – virtually, at any rate – by my aunt. It was not ideal meeting a man through my aunt, but beggars and all that…
The morning of the lunch came, and with it an email with apologies. The man had man flu and couldn’t make it after all. Another time…
The emails continued, less steadily, but they continued.
Some weeks later my aunt had some people round and he went and I went. He wore a floppy jacket and expression of extreme pleasure with himself even though he tried to disguise this with bad luck stories. One of them was that he had made a woman pregnant but that he didn’t love her and that she was going ahead and having the baby. What was he to do? I gave kindly advice and was sympathetic. We laughed over lunch, certainly chatted animatedly. He was handsome but he laboured the artistic side of himself and wasn’t altogether terribly adept at concealing the fact that he was up his own arse. Polite enough I suppose.
Once he had met me, of course, I never did receive another email from him.
What a surprise. Just the kind of boost the middle-aged divorcee needs to the self-confidence. I had been good enough for the odd witty email – he had complimented my aunt on how I gave good email – and I had made him laugh when he met me, but the reality, the slack-fleshed reality, well, thanks but no thanks. He didn’t fancy me. End of story.
In fact, no bad thing (though that is beside the point). Some months later I heard he had got a second hapless woman pregnant with whom he may or may not have been in love; he was in two minds about it and was experiencing not a little stress, apparently.
Oh, how the heart bleeds.