Quiet Man Calling

I just read my last post about Quiet Man, to try and revive my memory of where I left off in the story.

Oddly enough, I can’t remember what occurred from January until May. May 22 to be specific.

I know I saw him around and probably wasted some time chatting with him briefly, but at this moment, it escapes me.

Oh well.

Now the pre-cursor to the significance of May 22. A definite Gemini day. For sure.

Now prior to May 22, maybe about one week, or was it two? I can’t recall specifically, but there was another fund raiser to which I was “invited”; I find that odd: being invited to something you have to pay money.

So, in the vein of this memory relapse, I went to go and see Fred about something. It was the usual Fred interaction: “Oh, hello sweetheart; how are things?” kind of talk.

It soon turned sour for Fred. I had mentioned the fundraiser by inquiring if he was going to attend.

OH MY GOD.

He did not get an invitation. I saw him recoil in hurt, in disbelief. He put his hand to his chest as if his heart was going to pour out onto the floor.

“Oh, you know sweetheart, I don’t care. I don’t.”

“C’mon Fred, you probably just did not get it yet,” I hoped, but really did not believe my own point.

“No, no, “ he said with much emphasis.

“You know it’s at that Italiante place again. I am sure all the big wigs are going to show up,” I said without thinking.

“You don’t know me sweetheart; I do not go where I am not invited,” he said while his finger tips pointed into his chest.

He straightened his rounded back and looked just plain hurt.

“Oh Geez, Fred, don’t worry about it,” I told him. “I am not going anyway. I have another party to go to on that night.”

“Really, Muse?” he said as he pondered that thought.

“Yeah, I do,” I confirmed for him.

I knew it upset the rest of his day. Fred hates being ignored, not invited and just not being important.

Poor Fred.

Fred really was not invited for whatever reason. I felt bad for him, so I dropped in on him and gave him my invitation about a day or two before the event.

His eyes lit up. It was a wedding styled invitation.

“Here, I told him, just show up and pay at the door,” I instructed him.

He never even cared he was not invited with his own invitation. He put on his glasses to inspect the document. He held it between his fingers as a baron would hold a crisp one thousand dollar bill.

“Thank you Muse. I am going to pay $250!”

“Why?”

“Why not?” he said.

It was only $75.00 per person, and as always he would bring Quiet Man. So, I guess he would throw in the extra one hundred dollars to show them they should have invited him the first place.

“Muse, you are not going?”

“No,” I said, ”I already told you I have another event to attend. And besides, I am going with someone.”

I had to laugh that his ego was bigger than his pride. So, I left it at that.

Much to my surprise, the day of the fundraiser, Fred called me.

“Muse?”

“Yes, Fred?”

“Are you going tonight?”

“No, you know that.”

“Well can you come after your event?”

“No. It will be going on all night”

Now why would I go to a fundraiser when I was invited to a party at a posh place, for free, that would go on into the night and was fully catered, open bar, entertainment which included magicians, cartoonists, dee jays, a roast pig and everything else you can think about? This was what running through my mind when I was answering him.

“Muse,” he said slowly, “Quiet Man can bring you to your event and then bring you to the fundraiser.”

WHAT? I can’t believe he just said that.

“I am going with someone,” I said. It was just my business partner, but I did not have to tell him that.

“He can drive you down and then drive you back up,” he continued, completely ignoring what I just had told him.

“Ok, are you kidding me?”

“No, why would I kid you sweetheart?” he said.

“I can drive myself, I am a big girl,” I insisted, “and besides, the fundraise will be over way earlier than my party.”

“Quiet Man can get you. He can drive you.”

I could not believe I was hearing this and he was saying it, repeatedly.

“Muse, I think, well, you know,” he stammered and then quite emphatically told me, “I think Quiet Man likes you.”

My head began to swell. I can’t believe this grown man has called me with this. It was like slow motion for some reason. I was trying to think of a nice way to get off of the phone and end this conversation.

Instead, I said,” What did you say Fred?”

“Quiet Man likes you, Muse. Don’t you know that? Don’t you notice that you are the only woman he talks to at all?”

I was getting dizzy.

“Quiet Man does not bother with any other woman in the room, Muse. You are the only one.”

My head was swirling. Was Quiet Man there with Fred? What the hell are these two thinking? They are 16 years old or what?

I finally got a hold of myself and told Fred I had to get off of the phone because I had to go home and get ready for later that night. I bid him a good time at the fundraiser.

I went to my fabulous party but the only thing I could think about was Quiet Man. I had bumped into a girlfriend there I had not seen in a long time. She was with her nerdy new boy friend. At some point in the evening, after my business partner left, I informed her I was getting a fabulous new boyfriend.