Monday, February 4, 2013

Second lunch with Debbie

Debbie: It’s been great seeing you again, and this has been such a wonderful conversation. I suppose you’ll have to get back to the office soon.

Hosea: Pretty soon.  But … can I ask one more question?

Debbie: Sure.

Hosea: Did I hit a … wrong note … or something, in one of my e-mails? I mean, when you ….

Debbie: Oh, right. [Shy smile, stares at table.] No, it was nothing like that.

Hosea: [Looks quizzical. Waits.]

Debbie: [Continues to stare at table while talking.] I’m feeling very vulnerable here. But I found that I … was starting … to respond to you … emotionally; and I felt it was better just to slow down.

Hosea: Oh. OK. I think maybe we’re in something like the same place. I mean, … gosh, at some level I’ve been sweet on you for years, ever since we started working together. And when I first got your e-mail tabling our discussion I felt kind of like you had swatted me on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper.

Debbie: Oh, no, it was nothing like that!

Hosea: But after that I got to thinking, and I began to agree that maybe it’s wise to slow down, at least for ….

Debbie: Right.  [Long pause.] So what do we do now?

Hosea: Now?

Debbie: Let me just say that for myself, I have a really strong sense that I can’t start any kind of relationship with you while you are still married. It would make me feel cheap.

Whoops! Really? Better think about that. Quite aside from what this says about the possibility of anything romantic with Debbie, will I ever be able to tell her about D? Good thing that I know this now.  But aloud all I said was …

Hosea: “Still married”? I might stay married for a long while, legally speaking, so that Wife can be covered by my company-paid health insurance.

Debbie: [Thinks.] Well, … maybe not while you are still legally married. But I can’t see doing any kind of dating – not even plays or concerts – while you are still living in the same house with her.

Hosea: But lunch is good?

Debbie: Lunch is great. Let’s have lunch again soon.

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