Bill Nye the Science Guy
Jan. 16th, 2011 07:35 pmBack to back – I guess you’d call them dates…
Met Michael for the first time at State Street Gimme. Effortless conversation – he’s bright, has a good sense of humor, a kind of lucid quality. He’s an editor, a runner, and a Buddhist. He’s also a lot shorter than me which might make sex in the shower problematic. Both my husbands were shorter than me, a fair number of my X-boyfriends as well. Next time I thought it might be fun to go for someone over six feet tall.
But I liked Michael. He may be the most simpatico person I’ve met so far strictly in terms of tastes and intellect.
Then I met up with Brian for the second time.
Disaster
I was highly ambivalent when I met Brian for the first time two weeks ago. Brian was bright, there was something endearing about him, but Brian droned on and on and on about episodes in his personal history in which I had not the slightest interest. I’m a big fan of small talk; I’d really much rather talk about the corn crop in Ghana then hear about the story of someone’s unfortunate marriage. I mean, at some point if the corn crop in Ghana grows hot enough, I may develop an interest in the marriage – but it’s gonna take a while.
Brian got in the habit of calling me every night. Maybe he knew something I didn’t: were we going steady? He droned on and on and on on the phone too. We made plans to the Johnson Art Museum; they fell through. We made more tentative plans to get together either Friday or Saturday night. They didn’t happen. We’re not that interested in each other, I thought. I felt relieved. The phone calls stopped. So I was shocked when he texted me a couple of nights ago.
Brian, you’re great but it’s just not happening, I texted back.
And he went into this kind of tailspin. You’re an exceptional woman. I’ve blown it. The golden ring on the merry-go-round ride of life has slipped from my fingers etc etc.
Okay, I said. We’ll try the museum again next week.
No, no, he said. I need face time! I need face time soon!
Fine, I said. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Mistake.
He insisted on kissing me on my cheek. He sucked my cheek! EW!
Then he drove me to the Duffield Engineering Building on the Cornell campus where he works as an engineer so I could see his clean room. He regaled me with the complete corporate history of the company he works for. He began telling me a complicated anecdote involving his son Cory’s science fair and Bill Nye the Science Guy –
“You know who Bill Nye the Science Guy is, right?” he said, squeezing my elbow.
I quickly shifted my industrial strength purse to that arm. “No, actually. I don’t.”
“You don’t know who Bill Nye the Science Guy is?”
“I told you.”
“How could you not know who Bill Nye the Science Guy is?”
“Dunno, but somehow I managed to pull it off.”
He stopped walking and hit his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Wait! You’re kidding, right? You do know who Bill Nye the Science Guy is.”
“No. Like I told you, I don’t.”
”But how could you not know about Bill Nye the Science Guy? How is it possible not to know –“
“I don’t know, okay?” I said loudly. But hey! I was still smiling.
“So I should just drop it, huh?”
“You should just drop it.”
“But Bill Nye the Science Guy –“
“Brian, what is this leading to?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are we going up this flight of stairs?”
“Well, I don’t know. It’s a nice building. I figured we’d go up the stairs.”
He’s stoned, I thought. That was the only explanation for this. I knew he smoked dope.
I took a deep breath. “Brian, this isn’t working for me. Please take me back to my car.”
“Well, what do you do when you go out on dates, huh?” he all but screamed.
“I go to museums, Brian,” I said. “Sometimes I go to concerts. I don’t think it would occur to me to take a date to my place of employment.”
“But I wanted you to know me.”
“Oh, I know you, Brian. I know a lot more about you than you know about me.”
As he waited for me to get out of his car, he said, “When I’m remembering this one, I’ll think, ‘I had to cut her loose because she didn’t know who Bill Nye the Science Guy was.’”
Met Michael for the first time at State Street Gimme. Effortless conversation – he’s bright, has a good sense of humor, a kind of lucid quality. He’s an editor, a runner, and a Buddhist. He’s also a lot shorter than me which might make sex in the shower problematic. Both my husbands were shorter than me, a fair number of my X-boyfriends as well. Next time I thought it might be fun to go for someone over six feet tall.
But I liked Michael. He may be the most simpatico person I’ve met so far strictly in terms of tastes and intellect.
Then I met up with Brian for the second time.
Disaster
I was highly ambivalent when I met Brian for the first time two weeks ago. Brian was bright, there was something endearing about him, but Brian droned on and on and on about episodes in his personal history in which I had not the slightest interest. I’m a big fan of small talk; I’d really much rather talk about the corn crop in Ghana then hear about the story of someone’s unfortunate marriage. I mean, at some point if the corn crop in Ghana grows hot enough, I may develop an interest in the marriage – but it’s gonna take a while.
Brian got in the habit of calling me every night. Maybe he knew something I didn’t: were we going steady? He droned on and on and on on the phone too. We made plans to the Johnson Art Museum; they fell through. We made more tentative plans to get together either Friday or Saturday night. They didn’t happen. We’re not that interested in each other, I thought. I felt relieved. The phone calls stopped. So I was shocked when he texted me a couple of nights ago.
Brian, you’re great but it’s just not happening, I texted back.
And he went into this kind of tailspin. You’re an exceptional woman. I’ve blown it. The golden ring on the merry-go-round ride of life has slipped from my fingers etc etc.
Okay, I said. We’ll try the museum again next week.
No, no, he said. I need face time! I need face time soon!
Fine, I said. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Mistake.
He insisted on kissing me on my cheek. He sucked my cheek! EW!
Then he drove me to the Duffield Engineering Building on the Cornell campus where he works as an engineer so I could see his clean room. He regaled me with the complete corporate history of the company he works for. He began telling me a complicated anecdote involving his son Cory’s science fair and Bill Nye the Science Guy –
“You know who Bill Nye the Science Guy is, right?” he said, squeezing my elbow.
I quickly shifted my industrial strength purse to that arm. “No, actually. I don’t.”
“You don’t know who Bill Nye the Science Guy is?”
“I told you.”
“How could you not know who Bill Nye the Science Guy is?”
“Dunno, but somehow I managed to pull it off.”
He stopped walking and hit his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Wait! You’re kidding, right? You do know who Bill Nye the Science Guy is.”
“No. Like I told you, I don’t.”
”But how could you not know about Bill Nye the Science Guy? How is it possible not to know –“
“I don’t know, okay?” I said loudly. But hey! I was still smiling.
“So I should just drop it, huh?”
“You should just drop it.”
“But Bill Nye the Science Guy –“
“Brian, what is this leading to?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are we going up this flight of stairs?”
“Well, I don’t know. It’s a nice building. I figured we’d go up the stairs.”
He’s stoned, I thought. That was the only explanation for this. I knew he smoked dope.
I took a deep breath. “Brian, this isn’t working for me. Please take me back to my car.”
“Well, what do you do when you go out on dates, huh?” he all but screamed.
“I go to museums, Brian,” I said. “Sometimes I go to concerts. I don’t think it would occur to me to take a date to my place of employment.”
“But I wanted you to know me.”
“Oh, I know you, Brian. I know a lot more about you than you know about me.”
As he waited for me to get out of his car, he said, “When I’m remembering this one, I’ll think, ‘I had to cut her loose because she didn’t know who Bill Nye the Science Guy was.’”
no subject
Date: 2011-01-17 03:43 am (UTC)Did that really happen?
no subject
Date: 2011-01-17 01:37 pm (UTC)It did! :-)
Pretty sure he was stoned. Thing about him being stoned was that it made him kind of jerky -- I don't mean jerk-like; I mean physically uncoordinated -- and he totally stopped picking up social cues, and it was just uncomfortable being around him.