May 7th, 2004

mr. robin


The forecast for today is 82 degrees with scattered thunderstorms. I really hope that it doesn't rain until after two, because I am jonesing for a lunchtime nap in the park like WHOA.


Last week I went to the park for lunch. I spread out my blanket on the football field, and read as I ate my baloney sandwich. (I like that better, to spell it that way, "baloney".) When I was done with my sandwich, I only had about fifteen minutes left before I had to head back, so I figured I'd lay down and read, but after a short while I decided to put my head down and catch a few zees. I programmed myself to wake up in ten minutes. I set the alarm on my cell phone, just in case.

So I'm laying down, right? I'm laying on my stomach in the middle of a football field, with no one else in sight. I'm laying down in jeans and a polo shirt, work shoes to the side. I fall asleep and am woken up a short while later by heavy breathing. I try to ignore it, but soon there is a dog in my hair. I look up to see the face of a hulking great dog, whose leash is held by a stocky man in a white t-shirt, a man in his mid-thirties at least.

At first I am confused. The dog is big to be sure, but why can't this dude control him? Why couldn't he keep him from waking me up? He makes small talk with me and when I realize he means to stand here and have a conversation with me, I resign myself to doing so, and talk with the guy about what this park used to be. As the sleepfog fades, I realize that this guy used his dog to wake me up, so that he could talk to me. This astounds me somewhat. I realize that I am more sensitive than most people to being awakened. But even so, man -- I'd hate to be disturbed if I was eating, or reading a book, or writing or something, but SLEEPING? Are you serious?

Finally my cell phone beeps (thank goodness!), and I put my shoes on and gather my blanket. The guy looks at my hand or something and says "so you're not married" and I brightly reply "nope" and he says "so then you'd be available to maybe get together sometime?" or something, don't make fun of the language he used because I can't remember exactly what he said and I am making it up. But he asked me out, is what I'm saying.

Now, I am terrible at thinking on my feet, simply awful. I always end up telling the truth. I was gracious enough not to say the most obvious truth, of course, which would be "oh sir, you are too old and unrefined for me" and instead say lamely, "I don't really date."

"I don't really date"? Are you kidding? Who SAYS that? Well, me, apparently. It was in my head because a few days prior, turnip referred to a friend of hers and said "but he doesn't date" and I thought, "hey, that's me! I don't date!" So I mean I guess it's true and everything, but that does not make it a cool- or even realistic-sounding rejection to a date request.

Luckily, the guy thought that this sounded totally reasonable. "Ah, ahright!" he said, and then proceeded to quickly say other awkward things about how he didn't date much either, his dog doesn't like when he brings people over HA HA OH WAIT you know, he means he does, he just doesn't like to share the guys attention something else I don't know, it was awkward and pointless and I wasn't paying too much attention.

He accepted my excuse with such a distinct lack of disbelief, that I'm pretty sure he figured that I was a lesbian.

So anyway, yeah. I'm sort of scared to go back to that park now? I mean not scared. I just would prefer not to run into the guy. I would REALLY prefer if he not interrupt my nap with the intention of asking me out again. If he does, though, I will certainly politely tell him that I look forward to my lunch hour, and to spending that luch hour alone. And asleep. So leave me be.

Oh and P.S.? His dog's name was Dude.