I'm Just Not That Into You
Remember obtuse dude? Of earlier post fame? Well, like Johnny and the scary guy from The Shining, he's baaaack.
The gods decided that weeks and weeks of successful avoidance must be punished with a little face time, so he happened to be hanging around the lobby when I left the building yesterday.
I present to you Our Encounter: A Short MetaPlay.
[Scene 1: Lobby. Julia is wearing a polo shirt and a skirt. Obtuse Dude is wearing an undershirt pulled up onto his shoulder on one side to show off his tattoo. Obtuse Dude's internal monologue is not decipherable, (author's note: perhaps there is none?) but Julia writes hers on a blackboard behind her head. Such writings are in italics. ]
Obtuse Dude: Hey! I haven't seen you in a while!
Julia: Yes (Thank God for small favours. Actually, huge gi-normous favours. The kind you have to sacrifice a goat for usually)
Obtuse Dude: So when are you moving out? We'll have to hang before then.
Julia: In a week or so (Please please PLEASE don't follow through on that threat. Then again, I can find handy excuses for a week, dammit! I'm resourceful! You can't frighten me!)
Obtuse Dude: Will you come back to live in New York?
Julia: No, I have to go now [walks towards door]. (I ain't telling you whether I'm moving back. You'd probably want to be roomies, because apparently, you think we're tight like that. But no, my friend, just no. I may even have extensive plastic surgery to avoid you. I've always wanted to look more Armenian...)
Obtuse Dude: It's really hot outside. Are you sure you want to wear a polo shirt? You're gonna burn up. I'd suggest wearing a tank top.
Julia: I have another shirt in the car. Bye (Umm... that was odd. And don't tell me what to do. But number one priority: dont' be odd.)
Obtuse Dude: [shouted at retreating back] I'll come by your room later!
[scene]
O, Obtuse Dude, I hope the girlfriend you're always prattling on about is real, because she is obviously someone who can stand you. Marry that girl, Obtuse Dude, she is your salvation.
And don't come by my room later just because you know what number it is because my mail got put in your box accidently. That wasn't Fate putting my mail in your box. And If I Ever catch the clumsy bastard who put my mail in your box, I'll kill 'im.
The gods decided that weeks and weeks of successful avoidance must be punished with a little face time, so he happened to be hanging around the lobby when I left the building yesterday.
I present to you Our Encounter: A Short MetaPlay.
[Scene 1: Lobby. Julia is wearing a polo shirt and a skirt. Obtuse Dude is wearing an undershirt pulled up onto his shoulder on one side to show off his tattoo. Obtuse Dude's internal monologue is not decipherable, (author's note: perhaps there is none?) but Julia writes hers on a blackboard behind her head. Such writings are in italics. ]
Obtuse Dude: Hey! I haven't seen you in a while!
Julia: Yes (Thank God for small favours. Actually, huge gi-normous favours. The kind you have to sacrifice a goat for usually)
Obtuse Dude: So when are you moving out? We'll have to hang before then.
Julia: In a week or so (Please please PLEASE don't follow through on that threat. Then again, I can find handy excuses for a week, dammit! I'm resourceful! You can't frighten me!)
Obtuse Dude: Will you come back to live in New York?
Julia: No, I have to go now [walks towards door]. (I ain't telling you whether I'm moving back. You'd probably want to be roomies, because apparently, you think we're tight like that. But no, my friend, just no. I may even have extensive plastic surgery to avoid you. I've always wanted to look more Armenian...)
Obtuse Dude: It's really hot outside. Are you sure you want to wear a polo shirt? You're gonna burn up. I'd suggest wearing a tank top.
Julia: I have another shirt in the car. Bye (Umm... that was odd. And don't tell me what to do. But number one priority: dont' be odd.)
Obtuse Dude: [shouted at retreating back] I'll come by your room later!
[scene]
O, Obtuse Dude, I hope the girlfriend you're always prattling on about is real, because she is obviously someone who can stand you. Marry that girl, Obtuse Dude, she is your salvation.
And don't come by my room later just because you know what number it is because my mail got put in your box accidently. That wasn't Fate putting my mail in your box. And If I Ever catch the clumsy bastard who put my mail in your box, I'll kill 'im.
posted by julia at
9:31 PM
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