Well, my darlings: plot twist. Remember Elevator Man? The one whom I'd so daringly introduced to myself to, while I was leaving Duval's party? While I was holding the elevator door open for him? The one who wrote me the next day to say that even if it was somewhat arbitrary, he was glad that he happened to be the guy walking in as I was walking out? The guy who seemed--if only for his openness to my nuttiness--promising?
Well, we were supposed to go out tonight--this very evening!--to a place in my neighborhood. And I was looking forward to it. We'd met in such a fun way, after all, and in his emails, he seemed open, sweet, appropriately quirky.
Last night, Duval and I were chatting, and she asked me if Elevator Man and I had made a date to hang. I told her we had--and she began to hint that maybe he wasn't worth my time. I pressed her to be more specific. After all, she barely knew him herself--she had only interacted with him briefly at her party, the same party I was leaving when I met him, and she had never met him before that. What could she possibly have against him?
She wrote back, pointing out that she thought he was going out with me?
He wrote back, apologizing, saying that indeed he hadn't quite realized we were friends, and he felt a bit chagrined, but he also noted that while he was looking forward to getting to know me better, *I* had asked him out, whereas *he* had asked her out.
And fair enough. And I honestly don't think he did anything wrong.
But I feel a little awkward, a little less-than-special, and quite defensive and weird.
I should bail, don't you think?
Sigh. Sigh. Sigh.