Believe it or not, this is the final Quiet Man post. Yeah, there is an ending.
After that episode with Fred about driving me to my event that I went to with my business partner, for some reason, I could no stop thinking about what the hell that was all about. I had been thinking, how odd the whole thing was and then threw out the window the new boyfriend thing.
So, about a week later, it was May 22. It was Gemini, you know the twins, the opposite twins that pop into opposites of every sorts.
I can't remember now what the hell I did that day. Did I go and see Fred? I seem to think that I did. I also seem to think that I did not.
What I do remember is that I had the most irresistible urge to go and see Quiet Man, without notice. I looked decent enough. I had on a cream colored long sleeved tight knit top with a silk sarong style to the ankle skirt that was bordered with solid dark brown. I can't remember what heels I had on- but for girls who love shoes, you know why this is important. A clodhopper can ruin you. I think I may have had on my favorite dark brown strap sandal-with the thinnest of straps crossing the toes at just the right spot. I know I had on my signature glossy pink toe polish in fuchsia.
Would any man notice any of what I just described? No. But I do and that is what counts.
I decided to go after lunch. I refreshed the pink lipstick, made sure I smelled like a heady rose and wiped any trace of runny eye makeup that may have lost its place.
I was out the door in a flash, got into my car and in the less than five minute drive to Quiet Man's office, I decided the following:
I was going to ask him his advice on the nut job who was unwillingly featured in a previous post about going to the mansion of the son of a famous tv personality: should I trust him in a business venture he offered to me when he recently called me out of the blue? [This was true, but the lie part was the question about trust. I knew for sure not to trust a scum bag like that, but Quiet Man did not need to know.]
My excuse about going to see him in his office unannounced was: nothing. I would completely ignore it. [This was true because I did not have any other valid or rational reason to go there other than Fred who put that idea into my head the week before and the fact that I was sick to death of listening about and dealing with Quiet Man and I wanted to force the issue about he and I once and for all. But he did not need to know that either.]
I pulled up to the office. It looked kinda deserted, but his car was there-the green jaguar. There was a large window by the entrance door. I was like, what if he is looking out? I did not know if that was his office or not. I decided to re-apply some lipstick, not that I needed it at all, but since this one had some kind of white shiny crap in it, I slapped it on anyway. If he was in there, I thought he would come out. He did not.
I push open the door out of my car and I closed it behind me as if I was expected. Since I never was in this place at all I did not know what to expect, nor did I think about it, even about a secretary or something. I walked in the door and there was a small hallway to my left, with a door on the left. I called out "HELLO!" as I approached the room, down the left on the left.
I get to the doorway and there was Quiet Man sitting at his desk, which was right next to the window, with a full view of my car. What the hell was he thinking sitting in his office, not coming out at all? Maybe he was shocked to shit, was what I was thinking as he rose to come to kiss me on my left cheek while he grabbed my hands. I think he got a good whiff of the cologne I glopped on at the last minute as if in a five minute ride it would evaporate into oblivion.
Damned, that man looked hot, or as the truth was, the immediate sexual attraction, zapped its way across the room.
"Oh, Muse" he said as he rose, his smile broad. I turned my face when he approached me because I was offended he apparently had a clear wide view of my pulling in, sitting in my car and then walking into the building.
What I remember next was refusing to sit at his desk and preferring to stand while he re-seated himself. I began to blab about why I was there, and he bought it, giving me the most sincerest of advice about not trusting the weasel. Prior to starting my dissertation about the advice he believed I was seeking, I quickly inquired about if he was alone in the office. He was, so I felt immediately more comfortable.
I remember he did an odd thing. He opened his desk drawer and rifled through a large pile of business cards. He thumbed through them and pulled one of mine out. What was he doing, comparing the photo on the card to what was standing right in front of him?
Also, Quiet Man's cell phone was ringing off the hook. I think Fred must have called him like five times in like ten minutes. He did not tell Fred I was there, but I think Fred called like five times because he kept cutting him off. I was laughing to myself because Fred must have been miffed beyond belief to get the brush off.
Anyway, I can't remember what he was talking to me about until he said something about a doctor coming. Quiet Man was going to buy his antique Mercedes from him. And lo and behold, there was the goofy MD with a fluffy blondish afro swinging in time to the spring breeze as he was approaching. I immediately hated this MD.
So, I had told Quiet Man in the five seconds it took the corny MD to get into the office, to stop by my office on his way back from giving the MD a ride back to his house because the dope did not arrange for his own ride when selling his vehicle. He agreed.
Now, I get back to my office and I furiously start to arrange the front room, freeing it from my piles and piles of work. I decided to sit at the window in the front hall to see if Quiet Man was really driving the idiot MD home. He lived in the next town and the most direct way there was by my office which is located on a main road.
Like any other female, I sat at that window for a reason. To test the truth of a man. So in about fifteen minutes since I left Quiet Man's office, I saw him drive by with the MD in the passenger seat. So, I mentally figured out the time it would take for him to get back and I waited.
And waited, and waited.
WTF? It was like TWO HOURS later and I was still "waiting".
The phone rang.
"Ah, Muse, its Quiet Man, " he said in a soft, yet authoritative voice.
"Who is this?" I demanded. Like all my callers had a thick accent.
"Oh" I said without any enthusiasm, "Hello Quiet Man"
"Muse, I, I ... " he started to explain without it coming out like an oil slick, "I was delayed coming back, I had to take another way...."
I did not even comment out of fury. It was at MOST a 30-45 minute ROUNDTRIP in slow traffic to make that round with the MD.
I was thinking, what the hell, he said he was going to stop in on his way back and he did not. Ass.
Since hindsight is 20/20, like I am now thinking, I should have exploded and hung up on him and been done with it all- my usual reaction. But since I was trying out a new approach, developed within seconds of answering his call, I held my tongue and acted like I was so pre-occupied that I had not even remembered he was supposed to stop in.
So he proceeds to talk to me and talk and talk and talk and talk. Like two hours. Good thing he called at the end of the work day. What the hell did we talk about? I can't really remember, but as the call progressed, I was softening up like butter left out on the counter.
So I decided to approach him with what was on my mind for a week.
"Quiet Man, why did Fred tell me that you liked me?"
I figured it was better to lay it on Fred, but it was the truth.
"Quiet Man, " I said firmly, "why would Fred say that?"
He kept dodging he question. He continued on with whatever he was telling me, which for the life of me, I wish I could remember what the hell I had found so fascinating at the time.
"Quiet Man," I interrupted.
"Oh, Fred told you that?"
"Ah, yes he did"
"I think Fred is interested in you."
"No, Quiet Man, Fred does not like me, " I piped in, and added for good measure, " and I don't like him."
"Now why would Fred say something like that?"
"Oh, I don't know, why would he say something like that out of the blue, " I replied sarcastically.
I was getting annoyed at his avoidance of the question.
So I decided to interrogate him.
"Listen, Quiet Man, you are going to give me an answer. A direct answer to a direct question. Now, I have told you the entire story about what Fred said, so you can't ignore it. I am going to ask you again: Why would Fred tell me you where interested in me?"
I was proud of myself, being so assertive. You know, so many men never seem to entangle themselves into the web they build.
"Muse, I am a married man."
OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He continued to blather on about how old he was, how he was happily married and even questioned me as to why I thought he was single, was it because he did not wear a wedding ring?
"Muse, you are a beautiful woman," he threw in, probably so proud of himself.
"WHAT?" I finally chimed in after the initial shock took hold of me.
OH NO, no no. As he kept explaining whatever the hell he was explaining I was re-visiting all of our encounters: was there any indication that this man was married? NO. Did Fred EVER mention Quiet Man was married? NO. Did the lack of a wedding ring indicate marriage? NO.
What he failed to comprehend, and still to this day, was his inappropriate behavior in pursuing me by playing the role of a single man.
I ended the conversation after the initial shock wore off.
I did see him I believe two more times after that: once, I was going to cross the street, and he stopped his car, signaling me to cross; I waved him on, he kept insisting, holding up traffic. He had the lurid smile on his face, leaning across the passenger seat, smiling at me in his oh so gallant manner.
The second time was I was leaving Starbucks and heading towards my car. He pulled up next to me and tried to make small talk. He wanted to talk to me about the whole situation, adding, "Muse, to me, you will always be beautiful." I told him I did not have any time to listen to him and his drivel and reminded him he was married. Again, he held up his left hand and asked why I thought he was single, was it because he does not wear a ring? Ah, no, Quiet Man that is not the reason-your behavior and utter lack of mention of having a wife and two teenage children is more like it.
At this last meeting, he commented on my trip to Italy and tried to inquire about it. He then asked me for my cell number because he knew we needed to talk. So I gladly gave it to him: (012) 345-6789.
Needless to say I have completely avoided he and Fred. But, Fred did call my office during my trip to Italy. There was no message.
What are these men thinking, I ask you?
I know I was thinking about letting his wife in on his little operation he has going on, but as many have told me, what has she done to you? Nothing, but her husband has done plenty. I have figured her ignorance is self imposed or for real.
All in all, Gemini. Things are not as they seem, for they turn into their opposite. Whether its a single/married man, or an ignorant/knowledgeable wife, or a trusting/guarded single woman. The Gemini twist is as fast as the interchangeable twins can dish it out. They have made their mark. Indeed.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Believe it or not, this is the final Quiet Man post. Yeah, there is an ending.