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Wed | October 19, 2005

tonight

tonight I went to a-- what was it? a bunch of people in a room who happened to go to the same college. I hardly talked to the people I was most interested in. And one person I wanted to meet-- I didn't even talk to him! I wound up next to him, talking to this guy who, years ago, according to him, we were in multivariable calculus together. I do vaguely remember that. We picked up right where we left off-- pleasant chatting, happier chatting, then the gradual realization that if I did not extricate myself immediately, I'd have him asking me for my number. I think that's basically what happened seven years ago, except tonight we covered it in seven minutes. So hey I thought I let that go too long, but maybe I am becoming more efficient. But no, I still stayed too long, even after I realized what was happening. I talk to people all the time, whom I have no interest in. I am even friends with them. I can relax because there's nothing at stake. That is sort of a problem with me: I talk reflexively, but as soon as I try the reflex will never happen. I have survived so far this way so I suppose it is not fatal. I give up trying to fix it. Not that I have tried very hard. But I cannot think about it anymore. Not now anyway.

This not-talking bit, to the very people I want to talk to-- the same thing happened with Amy Tan tonight. I went to her book reading and she seemed like a nice person. talkable. I lingered at the end, and gradually there were only a few people around her, I could have easily stepped in-- but I did not know where to begin. Everything, every line, opening gambit, in my head, seemed stupid, irrelevant, insufficient. So I turned around and left. But I am still better off for having gone, even if the best didn't happen. I saw yet another real-life writer. I have been observing them like creatures at a zoo. And I ran into Flo. It is nice to see her. She's got good energy. She gave me a press copy of the book, which at least gave me the chance to go up and get it signed. Which opportunity I squandered by asking the author about the jacket she was wearing, which was really cool. It was a chartreuse brocade with a lofty circular collar. There was something just slightly space-agey about it without being too weird. I should start bringing my digital camera around, because Shirley would have liked to see it.

In sum, I said about two words to the people who mattered and about three thousand words each to the people who didn't matter so much. But a room full of friendly people will always make me happy, and there will always be something that didn't happen.

In conclusion, I give up.

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