An interrobang moment

19Jul07

Previously, I referred to a bizarre situation that I didn’t really understand. Now I’ll elaborate.

Yesterday, ensconced safely in my room while Toula was talking with a guest in the kitchen, I heard her call me. I wandered out in my bathrobe to see a woman with her, whom she introduced to me. As far as I know, I’ve never seen this woman before in my life, although she mentioned that we’d met once previously. (This, as you’ll see, may or may not be significant.)

Anyway, it turns out that this woman has just moved and is having difficulty setting up her computer. What she was wondering was whether I’d come over to her place and help her. Now, we’re not talking about installing a motherboard or messing around with BIOS or partitioning a hard drive or even loading an operating system here; we’re talking about basic stuff anyone should be able to do, such as plugging in the keyboard and connecting the power cord from the power bar to the computer. I shrugged and said that I guessed I could do it. She offered to pay me for my time and make me dinner.

“I have a nice place,” she said. “You’ll really like it.” She wrote down her name and number on a piece of paper. “Here’s my number. You can call me when you want to come over or even if you just want to go out for a coffee sometime.”

This was an interrobang moment; my thoughts at the time were, quite simply, as thus: ?! (or, assuming your web browser supports it, as thus: ). Is it just me, or was this woman hitting on me? And, if so, did she start the hitting-on process before actually laying eyes on me, keeping in mind that I was summoned from my room under this flimsy pretext before I saw our visitor? Or, is she correct that we’ve met before at some point, and does this mean that this is a premeditated ruse dating from that time? How long ago was that? And also, what the hell?

Anyone I’ve already mentioned this to has answered these questions with, “Who cares? Is she good-looking? Go get some!” I guess she’s good-looking enough, in a fortyish kind of way, but that’s not the issue. If she’s a friend of Toula’s, there’s probably something wrong with her. Her friends are always partially deaf, or recovering from nervous breakdowns, or getting over bitter divorces. So I don’t want any. Fortunately, Toula happily volunteered to come along when (or if) I go, so, if there is some ulterior motive, my likely-oblivious housemate has probably cock-blocked her, or whatever the feminine equivalent to cock-blocking is.

As I said, I don’t know what to make of this. Unfortunately, my comments function has been broken for about two weeks, but otherwise, I’d be be asking you to help me figure out what’s going on here or even just what the feminine equivalent of cock-blocking should be called.



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