Bad move, Bob.

I tell ya, it felt like 1989 last night.

That was the last year that I was in school. And I did something last night that I hadn’t done since I turned in my last paper. I studied in a café.

It wasn’t really what I wanted to do. After our house dinner was over, I wanted to go to a bar. I tried to convince one of my housemates and her friend but they’re both grad students and had massive amounts of work due today. When I was a student, I grabbed any opportunity to drink instead of study but, kids today. . .

I actually have a big, boring book review due on the 15th so I went along. As I tried to read about Science, Seeds, and Cyborgs I kept being distracted by the people at the next table. Their drama was much more interesting than my book.

I didn’t get a look at the woman, but the man was young and red-faced and trying to look more serious than he was. In fact, he looked like an unsmiling Bob’s Big Boy would if his hair was blonder and Bob was an aspiring yuppie instead of a fast food icon. Before I realized they were having drama, I was drawn to their conversation by Yuppie Bob’s cavalcade of cliches. As I tried to read my adequately-written, important book full of intellectual jargon, I kept getting distracted by phrases that slipped into my consciousness like teen-agers into the Metreon.

"The practice of genetic engineering is thus whole nine yards founded on the belief that physiological functioning of outside the box organisms is an effect of or sequel to a germinal cause, and that this cause, once it has been identified and circumscribed as the primordial in it to win it fount and progenitor of everything else, can with the right technology and expertise be rearranged to produce loaded for bear alternative effects"

I finally gave up and tried to figure out the root of their drama. Yuppie Bob’s business bravado and self-described, hard-work martyrdom evidently annoyed his tablemate. They knew each other from years before, I’m guessing college, and Yuppie bob was visiting for a few days from New York. There seemed to be multiple dramas going on..

First, he was going to drop in on some dinner party that he wasn’t really invited to. Tablemate tried to point out the ways in which this might not be welcomed, but Yuppie Bob was convinced he would be greeted warmly. Tablemate’s tone of voice told me that wouldn’t be the case but YB remained uncomprehending and oblivious. Tablemate tried to reason things out with him but he got defensive, saying at one point, "Why are you asking me about every detail?"

Because you’re not getting the message. Duh.

Then I started to recognize the root problem of their stilted interaction and mutual defensiveness. I think YB called up this old fling/old crush with the idea that he would get laid while he was in town. I think the rebuff had already happened and that both people were trying to figure out what to do next. Both were realizing they didn’t really care too much about each other without the old attraction. And YB was still hoping Tablemate would change her mind.

They began having one of those impossible conversations where one person is showing no interest and cutting no slack. Tablemate wasn’t being outright rude, she just refused to start any new topics of conversation and responded to his with only criticism or yes/no answers. She seemed to be mostly mulling over her options for the evening and treating his actually words like distractions.

Yuppie Bob: "So have you seen ‘Old School’ yet?"*
Tablemate: "I don’t really like those types of movies."
Yuppie Bob blundering on: "Well people I talked to weren’t like ‘’this is good’ they were like ‘’this is really good’".

Finally Tablemate made her decision and started putting on her coat and making leaving noises. Yuppie Bob frantically tried to recapture her interest. "Hey, have you seen Alan?"

"I’ve got to go," she said and got up. He fumbled to his feet grabbing his coat and trying to maintain his composure.

"Cool. I’ll e-mail you when I get back to the office," he said to her back. No response

The entertainment over, I went back to my boring book and my crappy zines wishing they had stayed a little longer.



*Note to Yuppie Bob (and apologies to walktheplank) when trying to flirt with someone who is not a frat brother , don’t discuss movies about frat boys.