Tonight I invited a guy to see a screening of The Social Network. Excellent movie, by the way. Fascinating performances. Anyway, I have with the guy a casual friendship made long ago on set and kept up via the previously mentioned social network. I had an extra ticket to the screening and we'd just chatted via said network last night, so I asked if he wanted to go with me and voila, there it is. After the movie we went to a diner he recommended and there shared what truly were the world's best pancakes.
Before I get to the closer here, I'll clarify what you're probably wondering... I'm not sure if I'm into him. Therefore it's pretty safe to say I'm not into him. I am into his brain, and I've always enjoyed conversing with him. But you know what did it for me tonight? His scent. It did... nothing for me. No pheromones pushing me to press my arm against his or linger an extra moment when we hugged as we greeted one another. His cologne was nice. But his scent, meh.
So we finish our pancakes and walk out to our cars and as we're standing next to mine there's a brief pause in the conversation, which I'm secretly hoping will precipitate the "good night!" exchange so I can go home to bed. And he says... "Would you like some company tonight?"
I just stared at him for a moment while my head replayed the message and my neurons tripped over each other trying to process what he meant. 'Cause when a man asks if you'd like company, that usually means the kind best kept in a sweaty horizontal tango... and I was not having that with him, not tonight and probably not in the future.
"Oh! No, I'm really tired!"
He back-stepped a little and said "I'm having such a good time hanging out with you, just didn't want the evening to end" to which I gracefully replied "Well let's do it again, then!" and strategically pulled out my car keys, preempting what would have been an awkward goodbye at best. I unlocked my door and got in unabetted, driving off in a groggy, unexcited haze.
Tonight instead I have the company of my dear friend Ted. He's exactly the company I want to keep at this hour: cute, dark and silent.