The next morning, Tuesday, I was on my way to Trudy’s to meet her to go to the casino. First I had to suffer her bowling league. I rang Quiet Man, then hung up. I had my DD coffee I was trying to drink, drive and call. It was too much, so I hung up before he answered.
While I was in the car with Trudy, her husband and her sister, while having to look at where Flat Foot lived when he was young, Quiet Man rings. I ended up hanging up on him by mistake. I dialed his number. The cell timer was moving, but I did not hear him. Trudy’s sister decides to show me baby pictures of her first grandchild. I was talking to her while looking at my cell with the initial indicating who was on the line. I hung up since I think the phone was hanging.
I did not want to call him again because I did not want Trudy to know I was talking to him. She already asked him about me at New Years.
When we arrived at the bowling alley, GTD called me, so I made my excuses to not go in to bowl, having business with which to deal.
I then used GTD as an excuse to call Quiet Man back.
He told me that he was listening to my conversation with Trudy’s sister. We spoke for about 40 minutes during two phone calls since he had to have me wait for him to call me back and then had me on hold for a long time.
I was happy to talk to him, my speech running rampant since he elevates my adrenaline. He is a good tonic for me, uplifting and exiting. It must be the laughter. His laugh is deep, resounding and genuine. It feels good to hear him.
While at the casino, I spoke to him, while leaving Trudy to bet on the horses. I could hardly hear him, but he was on his way home and his cell service would cut off soon.
On Wednesday, he rings me to find out how my night was at the casino, what I played etc. He called to invite me to have coffee with him later on that afternoon since he was driving to Michigan to fetch another luxury car he had purchased or Fred purchased, I cannot keep track.
I reminded him I had a lunch date with a friend and we made plans to see each other after 5 pm.
When my lunch date TR came, he surprised me with his new purchase he made a week ago. A cute bright red Porsche Boxter. He took me for a ride and I brought him to Quiet Man’s office. Quiet Man and I discussed me bringing TR to see the cars, which so many men find fascinating. We arrive, and he is no where to be found. I ring him. He was in the next town and would return in an hour.
“Too late,” said TR, “but what about this Mercedes SL?”
Like I know nothing about cars, so I passed him to Quiet Man and they chatted. TR said he was interested and would return. We then went to the country club to sit outside and have some cocktails and appetizers. We talked for a while and I rang Ricky to come and meet us. TR and Ricky liked each other, which was nice. TR had to leave and I was left with Ricky.
“So, Doll,” he told me, “what are you doing now?”
“I am waiting for Quiet Man because he is going to Michigan and he wanted to have coffee with me before he left.”
Ricky looked at me.
“Do you want to join us?” I asked so that he would not think anything else about it; he agreed.
I can’t help but think that Quiet Man is right about Ricky. He hugged me hello so hard, I felt my chest squash into his.
Ricky and I went to my office where I finished a few things. He sat on my couch waiting for me to deal with clients. It was a little after 7 pm and he decided to go home.
I myself headed back to my house and around 8 pm, I rang Quiet Man to find out what happened to him.
“Allo Muse!”
“So what happened to you?” I said dryly.
“Muse, I no have chance. I am already on road.”
“Why?”
“My wife send my son to go with me.”
I laughed. Heartily.
“She is a smart lady-my mother used to send all her children with her husband if she was not going,” I replied.
He laughed.
“Muse, I call you later, when my son is sleeping,” he said.
“OK.”
“After 11 pm OK? I call you to talk so I no fall asleep.”
“Yes, Quiet Man, that is fine; I will be up.”
I did all I could to not fall asleep. I had the feeling he was not calling. Sleep summoned me more strongly than my desire to speak with him.
The next day was Thursday. I supposed he made it to Detroit. I was not sure. The day passed with my only gossipy companion was Ricky. Poor Ricky, I always engage him in girl friend conversations-he does it because he likes me. I do it because I don’t like him like that and he is sweet enough to give me girl friend advice because then he is in the know about what I do.
Friday, my cell rings around 7:30 pm. It was he. He was driving back home. He was in a Black 1976 SL convertible. Enjoying the top down.
It was hard to hear him but I teased him relentlessly and he laughed. The banter and exchanges I enjoy with him are just that: Pure folly. It is the prelude to either something more or the becknoning tide between us that separates us with good measure.
I said something to him about being a man. He volleyed with a response and I chided him for having forgot he was not a marshmallow of a man. He is roaring with laughter.
“I AM A MAN!” I heard him scream into the wind, while driving. It made me laugh, thinking of him driving in the dark, with the top down and the heat blasting, holding his cell phone to talk to me while proclaiming his manhood to the open road.
I did not speak to him long when his cell went out-he warned me it would and I promised to call him back in ten minutes.
When I rant him back, the reception was much poorer. I decided to tell him I had to meet someone and would call him when I returned. He immediately stopped the conversation abruptly and told me to go. No problem. I would, and would call him when I returned.
I called him about 11 pm, just enough time to let him stew.
He had about two more hours to arrive home. He was tired but would not admit it. He was cold because he kept the top open and had the heat on. How exiting it sounded to drive the car home on the open road. I wished I went with him. He told me he stopped to eat dinner and walk around before heading back on the road. He did not ask me whom I met or what I did.
I told him that Sal called me that morning looking for GTD and asked me how my time at the casino was; funny to me I did not remember telling him I was going. He then told me he was going later that afternoon and was staying over. Funny, I thought; wasn’t Quiet Man and I supposed to go with him?
“Muse, he call you to ask you to go with him,” was Quiet Man’s response.
“No, silly, he did not ask me and if he did I would not go-I don’t know him.”
“No matter, Muse. He is gentleman.”
“Please. He is also ugly.”
We chatted about a few other things until his cell gave out.
After trying to ring him twice, I decided to go to sleep.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
What a Week, Quiet Man, Part II
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Men are Dumb
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