Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me
This past Wednesday, I had lunch with my junior-high and high-school classmate who had e-mailed me out of the blue.
It was a fairly transformation-less experience. I couldn't quite figure out what, if anything, he wanted from me. He had indicted in his e-mail that he was interested in writing for the publication I work for, but every encouragement I issued to him was met with seeming indifference. He talked ad nauseam about himself -- and of course, I asked question after question about him, even when I wasn't all that interested. The only time he asked anything about me was toward the end of the lunch when, apparently out of desperation or an eleventh-inning surge of politeness, he said, "So how long have you worked at ______ ?"
He wasn't very into reminiscing about our school or classmates, either. We did a little of that, but he made it clear that he didn't have fond memories. Strangely enough, he's been in touch recently with a guy who used to be one of my best friends, now a priest, whom I haven't been in touch with since the early '90s (the ball is in his court, if you ask me).
As we left the restaurant, the conversation turned to a classmate who was the closest thing to a best friend that T.B. had (in my memory anyway). He said, "We went through some rough times." I wasn't sure I had heard him, and I said, "You went through some rough times?" (meaning "you" singular). He said, "We both did. Drugs will do that to you."
Right. The drugs. I almost forgot.
He's a very handsome straight guy -- very white teeth, open collar with gold chain, pleated pants (heh heh), learning to play golf (very useful in the investment field and all), three kids in the suburbs. I didn't mention Elton.
It was a fairly transformation-less experience. I couldn't quite figure out what, if anything, he wanted from me. He had indicted in his e-mail that he was interested in writing for the publication I work for, but every encouragement I issued to him was met with seeming indifference. He talked ad nauseam about himself -- and of course, I asked question after question about him, even when I wasn't all that interested. The only time he asked anything about me was toward the end of the lunch when, apparently out of desperation or an eleventh-inning surge of politeness, he said, "So how long have you worked at ______ ?"
He wasn't very into reminiscing about our school or classmates, either. We did a little of that, but he made it clear that he didn't have fond memories. Strangely enough, he's been in touch recently with a guy who used to be one of my best friends, now a priest, whom I haven't been in touch with since the early '90s (the ball is in his court, if you ask me).
As we left the restaurant, the conversation turned to a classmate who was the closest thing to a best friend that T.B. had (in my memory anyway). He said, "We went through some rough times." I wasn't sure I had heard him, and I said, "You went through some rough times?" (meaning "you" singular). He said, "We both did. Drugs will do that to you."
Right. The drugs. I almost forgot.
He's a very handsome straight guy -- very white teeth, open collar with gold chain, pleated pants (heh heh), learning to play golf (very useful in the investment field and all), three kids in the suburbs. I didn't mention Elton.
posted by Billy at 10:42 PM
2 Comments:
Priest, huh? I think you should check in with him. There must be a scandal in there somewhere.
Maybe pleated pants, golf learning guy is searching for a sympathetic person from his past to connect with. Or, perhaps, he's just doing looking for business opportunities.
i love how the horns
bring out the highlights
in robert's face
Post a Comment
<< Home