Quiet Man, You Will Be Ignored

I watched Quiet Man leave. I was annoyed at Fred. He had some celebration he had to go to at home; Quiet Man was very into that Fred had to get home to his family for this celebration. I was like, a celebration for that, at this time of year? Odd. I wonder if Belina thought it was odd-I thought it was odd she was there/not there with Fred.

I was annoyed since, prior to them leaving, I was garnering up my courage to not to be so cold. I was throwing around in my mind what I was going to cleverly say to Quiet Man, I should say something intriguing I thought, and in the middle of this plan I was concocting in my mind to be utterly captivating, Fred announced his departure. Quiet Man had filled me in on the celebration information while Fred was adamantly apologizing for leaving but he had to get back to his house to celebrate. Belina was sitting quietly and oblivious. Unfazed, actually.

So I was pondering my annoyance, the oddity of Fred, Belina & Quiet Man. Now that they left, the event suddenly was very boring, as it should have been.

Quiet Man and Fred both work close to where I work. I never really paid attention to those areas but as with all things shiny and new, I was more attentive to their proximity. Quiet Man had mentioned something about coming to see me at work during his talk with me that evening. I took this as an off the cuff remark.

He never stopped by. Nor did he call.

I had not thought much about Quiet Man until the next time I knew I would see him-at another event. I was not going to get annoyed. I am a fiercely independent woman. I am my own person. I so hate that.

The last event the trio knew the people; this event was on my turf-they were the new people and they would not have any opportunity to blend in at all. I took some satisfaction in that.

As I was getting ready, I thought I would completely ignore this man. I would ignore him as I felt he ignored me. I would snub this Quiet Man and snub him so forcefully he would break his silence in loud protest which would fall upon my deaf ears. I would be the deaf snubber. I would!

When I had sat and thought about it, I found him egotistical and arrogant. Who does what he did and then does nothing?

It was a good thing I had not really thought about Quiet Man until the evening of the latest event. I surely had saved myself some stress that I would be using up in the future I was sure.

The event was held in the Fall and was a lame attempt as an Autum Harvest. Despite the chilly weather, I decided to wear a dress with a low cut neckline. It would be a dark sage green with white trim straps. I had re-tanned my legs to keep that summer look to them and would wear a slinky creamed closed toed shoe with an elegant heel. I would wear a cream colored feminine sweater trimmed with white beads over the dress.

My make up was pristine. [Or so I thought. I found out later I was oddly bedazzled, not realizing the glitter makeup I was going to dash upon my eyes somehow was stuck to the side of my eye next to my hairline. Everytime I turned, it must have been like a beacon light shining from the side of my face.]

I doused myself in some heady perfume and went on my way.

The weather that early evening was dismal, more than chilly and almost overcast. The parking at the venue was horrendous. I could not park close to the entrance and with all the gumption I was mustering for the latter part of the late afternoon while I was getting ready was eroding while I was trying not to trip and fall over every rock and pot hole.

My coiffed hair was whipping in the fall wind, tearing at my open neck where I had put a good deal of the heady perfume that was now being eroded by Mother Nature’s breath.

I was getting unraveled and tense.

“Good evening, Muse, nice of you to come!”

“Good seeing you Muse. You are sitting at our table, aren’t you?”

“Muse, your seat is with us” said Rob, who had grabbed my name from the table of carded names, and went to promptly mark my seat at his table.

I was standing in the entrance foyer. I was trying to compose myself, arranging my hair and dress. I bent over to pull the heel strap on my delicate shoes which had done the most awful twist and turns in the rocky parking lot.

My host greeted me with his hands embracing the top of my arms and a soft kiss on my cheek, the same doldrums type of kiss I gave him on his cheek.

I turned my attention to the table of names. I scanned it quickly. Fred, Belina and Quiet Man’s cards where still untouched.

Good, I thought. I can get a drink, relax and engross myself in a conversation with someone, anyone, while standing in the entrance area, in full view while in full interest in someone else, looking fabulous and unapproachable. I ordered a glass of the richest red wine they thought they served. And I waited.