Glad to Confirm You are Married, Quiet Man

When I last saw Quiet Man and Fred at the birthday party, I did not expect to see them again.

I did.

There must be some horrid and freakish reason I had to see the married Quiet Man again. It is stressful and it upsets me. I don't get it, and this whole saga is sick.

In order to purge myself from these experiences, I share them, here, on this blog. I hope this is the last of the sharing.

I had two places to go on one night. Back again to the Italianate hall and then to a smaller restaurant. Actually, I had gone to the smaller restaurant first, but it seemed empty, which was odd. There was definitely an event there that night, but I went to the Italianate monstrosity perched against a ledge by the road.

Earlier in the day, I was introduced to a man, who I know was married, and yes he had a ring, and yes he was much older and yes he was not attractive, at least to me. I had the unfortunate luck to have been introduced to him and he latched on. He is some muckety muck in our area and I really could care less.

He was attempting to explain to me who he was because I lied and said I did not know him, did not see him on TV and generally did not know anything about him. That was a mistake. It spurred him on to the most boring and lengthy recitation of his background, job, qualifications and other dulling topics.

He was acting like an idiot because I know he is an idiot.

So go and figure my surprise when I saw him at the Italianate hall that night.

I was wearing a black cocktail dress, with a silk, hot pink scarf I bought in Italy-one of those long ones-that I had around my shoulders. The neckline was cut quite low in the v-neck form. My lip gloss, in fabulous fuschia by Vincent Longo, was not as deep at night as it was during the day. It was to have equally matched the silk in the night light as it did in the day. I had on stiletto silver heels with criss crossed straps over each foot, bejeweled in rhinestones that reflected my matching hot pink toe polish.

I had to fake tan it that night on my decollate, legs, face and arms. It was September after all and the damned bad burn I was the recipient of in Capri, was beginning to fade as summer dwindled.

I was talking to a bunch of women, one of whom I really don't trust, and who I think is fake as her white blond hair she sports above her dark brown natural. When she sees me, she feels the need to begrudgingly compliment me and I dryly acknowledge her un-meaningful words. Deal with it, honey. You need to step off.

She was complaining of having to buy a glass of wine that cost her $7.00. I was sympathetic. I was. I was also enjoying the fact she had to buy her own liquor. Chump.

As I was leaning against the mahogany bar, after the fake blond left to make herself mingle in what she feels is in an important way, I found myself staring right at the man I had cringingly endured earlier that day.

OH MY GOD, what is it with me and married men lately, I thought? He planted himself next to me while all his "important" friends tried to tear him away. I was so disappointed they failed. He was making me regret I had on that dress. I told him I had another place to go that night and he coyly asked for my card. I had them, but I did not want to give one to him. He only knew my first name. He was questioning me incessantly anyway, but I was not having any of it. I made the attempt to search for one in my bag, fingered them and told him, regretfully I did not have any. I just had credit cards and I was not going to give him one of those. Oh, he found that so charming.

So I had eventually made my way towards the door. I was chatting with others and the married mucketey muck came over to me with one of those note pads with the freaking wire on the top holding the school lined sheets together. He flipped it open, and handed me the pad with a pen. He wanted me to write down my information. I scribbled my first and last name and nothing else, closed the pad and returned it to him. I finally was able to exit.

When I got to the second restaurant, it seemed pretty quiet. There was supposed to be many people there, but there was not. I parked and walked inside.

Quiet Man and Fred where holding up the bar and staring at me as I walked through the door. Fred had complained to my mother of all people the week before that in his culture, if you walk into a room, you need to go and say hello to those you know who are already there. I am of the opinion, that a man approaches a woman to say hello. That apparently was the big issue at the birthday party.

So, in order to avoid another birthday party silence, I went up to Fred to embrace him and say hello.

"Oh Muse, so nice to see you. Hello."

Oh geez, it made him so cordial, acknowledging him. I was pretty shocked to see him and Quiet Man because I did not think they were going to be there. This now meant I had to go to Fred's dumb party.

"Muse, you smell so good. Did you buy that from me?"

"No, Fred, I did not."

"It smells wonderful on you. What are you wearing?"

He was holding me by my bare arms, looking at me as if the scent would reveal itself.

I was wearing Pink Sugar, which I had sampled at Sephora. They give fabulous free samples to try out.

"I don't know the name, " I lied, "And, I did not even buy it either. Isn't it fabulous?"

"Muse it really does you well, it compliments you, " said Fred, while finishing his inhalation of the Pink Sugar.

I had turned around, unable to milk the scent scenario with Fred any longer, having to acknowledge Quiet Man.

He was sitting on a bar stool, and I was by his knees. He was also taking a whiff which annoyed me. He puts his arm around my back after putting down his plate of calamari he was sampling. He took my right hand with his other and was holding my fingers in his grasp. He was smiling as he usually does. I was doing all I could to not even be taken in by him.

"Ah, hello, " he said in a deep, slow voice, "Muse. Nice to see you."

Fred was on the other side of me, smiling broadly. He made me think of a father, looking at his son, while watching Quiet Man speak to me.

Quiet Man tried to draw my hand to his lips to kiss my hand. I pulled them back. He still held on. He tried again. I did the same. He did it for a third time and pulled hard enough to kiss my hand and he then leaned into my neck, laughing. I felt him inhale deeply. Probably the Pink Sugar was very intoxicating.

I told Quiet Man I had already met my married man quota for the night, telling him I had a new 'boyfriend' telling him of the influential married man who was trying to get it on with me. For the purposes of Quiet Man, that other married man was just fabulous. Quiet Man was not amused. Ha!

We chatted and laughed for a while until another man approached.

We had just been outside because Quiet Man needed a smoke. I don't even know what we talked about-I was keeping the conversation very, very generic with him. I think he was annoyed, like I cared, because while he lit up, I told him I had to move because I did not want to smell of smoke.

I was introduced to the man who approached me by someone I knew. His name was Tigo-rhymes with ego-an unusual name. He was to me definitely unattractive and older. He was married, thank goodness.

Quiet Man knew him. They greeted each other. After a while, Quiet Man suggested we go outside to talk while he smoked. Tigo was also a smoker.

We get outside and stand in front of the restaurant. Quiet Man was standing next to me and Tigo had seated himself. Tigo was quite a character. He absolutely took over. He was definitely interested. He was not acute to the fact I was not in the least attracted.

Quiet Man surprised me by stepping up and confronting Tigo, who was leering at me while he was talking. Quiet Man demanded that he stop talking to me about things I don't want to hear about; we don't want to know about it, said Quiet Man.

I was taken aback. Who the hell was he to do that?

Tigo took one look at Quiet Man, and then looked at me and continued on with his drivel about his successful business and in fact, he was going to be financing Fred for a few million dollars.

Quiet Man abruptly walked back inside. I decided to show an unusual interest in Tigo. I laughed on cue, raised my eyes at appropriate levels of his stories about his finances and the like. I looked through the window behind him every so often and I saw Quiet Man half sitting on the bar stool, looking at me looking at Tigo, with a sour look on his face, sipping his drink.

I finally got tired of Tigo and excused myself blaming the stilettos for having to return inside.

What happened next could be the subject of another post, but I will briefly summarize. Fred was flanked by some women, one of whom I knew. We did not like each other. She came up to me to try and insult me-didn't work- and Quiet Man told Fred and I she was jealous, having seem me with Quiet Man and Fred or something like that.

I told Fred I could not be dealing with his ugly assed women he was picking up on lately and with all his money, he should step it up and get some good looking women. Quiet Man burst out into laughter. Fred ended up laughing as well.

We then said our goodbyes, laughing about that tramp that had tried to attack me because Fred did not accept her sexual offer she was making to him.

Fred had asked me to confirm if I was going to his house party. I told him only if his wife was going to be there, and I told Quiet Man, he should be bringing his. What the hell.

They got into the car they came in; I thought it odd that Quiet Man had brought a two seater BMW, because it looked like he had to crunch himself in that James Bond like car. Fred looked like his head just made it to the dashboard. They are a comical pair.

I next saw Quiet Man in front of Starbucks after that helping some portly woman with her car. I was chatting with an ex-BF, honked the horn at him and he smiled broadly at me.


Now, about Fred's party.


I arrived with my mother to Fred's house. It was pretty large. Upon our arrival, as he did with everyone else who later came, he gave us a house tour. He had these crappy computer made signs taped to his walls, "No Food or Drink in the House".

I asked him what in the hell was that all about? He said, "Look at my silk oriental rugs. They cost me $60,000.00 each, Muse!"

"Muse," he said as I was looking at the rug wondering if I would ever pay $60,000.00 for not one, but two rugs, "These rugs, can never be cleaned if they get dirty. They are silk!"

He had two sets of the rug, one in each room flanking the front entrance. The sitting room to the right and the room to the left, complete with a $60,000.00 rug, was in his dining room. Go figure.

He took us to the family room. I was searching for something to compliment him on, since I was not digging his taste, which I told him was simply exquisite.

I saw hanging on a beige wall a set of beige framed tapestries depicting a colonial scene.

"Oh, Fred, how wonderful are those tapestries!" I really did like them.

He smiled broadly.

"Muse, guess who gave those to me?"

I did not have a clue, rattling off some names. No was his answer to each.

"Guess, Muse, guess," he said strangely.

"I don't know, " I said with some exacerbation since I ran out of guesses, "Who?"

"Quiet Man!" beamed Fred.

Just my luck.

I went to go and sit on the back patio where the tent was set up. I had been one of his first guests to arrive.

My mother, who can't sit still, went and sat with some gentlemen at a nearby table.

Fred's guests where really slow to roll in and I sat at my round party table by myself.

Fred coming in and out of his house, stopped by to see if I was OK. I was. I was just sitting there, holding my face in my hands, waiting for those I knew to arrive.

I noticed this odd group of people come in. They chose the table across from mine in my direct view. I had finished eating a few shrimp I had in front of me. Fred's help did not arrive to take away my plate, so I kept it in front of me, fiddling with the pink carcasses.

Those people where annoying. They were of an older age group. They stood for the longest time before sitting. They looked as if they did not know anyone. I was wondering how they knew Fred, who did not come over to them.

Those annoying people finally sat down as if they all came to an agreement about the table.

I was sitting listening to the live band and the DJ Fred provided take turns making so much noise. First one, then the other. What the hell where they doing? They started and stopped the music and then they turned the lights on and off and then used the strobe light and flashed our eyes out. What a bunch of yo-yos.

I was still sitting there, watching some guests as they slowly appeared. I was getting very bored and was wondering about leaving.

The DJ was annoying. He would not quit it with the lights. As I turned to see what the DJ was now up to with the music, I saw Quiet Man dart out of the house onto Fred's patio, towards the DJ.

Oh no, I thought. I turned around to mind my own business and, in case he was coming by, I had my back to him.

My shoulder was tapped. I turned and it was Quiet Man with this manly woman who he introduced me to as Mrs. Quiet Man.

I was a gasp at what this woman looked like, as I smiled broadly and shook her hand. It was surreal. It was like I was in a fog. I recall Quiet Man telling that sow he was married to, that this is Muse, his friend.

He asked me if I was there alone. I said no. He asked me if my mother came, I said yes and pointed her out. He asked me if my brother was coming, I lied and said, yes, later on. I was becoming enraged with him at this point.

Quiet Man was with the weirdos who chose the table across from me and the seat they saved for him and his manly wife was directly in my view. I was disgusted.

They were not even seated for thirty seconds at their table when I then noticed the women all looked alike. Those Eastern Block types. Like oxen.

Quiet Man was up and dragging his manly wife to introduce her to my mother. He was hugging and kissing my mother and making a scene, that I heard him from so far away. He was telling his wife how old my mother was and how she did not look anywhere near her age at all, which was true. If that manly woman did not think it was unusual for her husband to be doing that, she is stupid.

So the party crowd finally showed up. I did not see Quiet Man so animated and social before this night. He did not spend much time with the manly wife he had and he made a point of speaking to everyone I knew or was near me, and he ignored me. Which was fine.

I was angry because I did not appreciate being introduced to Mrs. Quiet Man, it was unnecessary, and to lie about he and I being friends. He also did not have to make an unusual point of talking to everyone and anyone around me.

Fred had come up to me a few times to see how I was. I was fine, I told him. Fine.

A couple of times Mrs. Quiet Man would linger around me, but nothing unusual, I thought. I wonder what she thought when her husband introduced me. It was so awkward, she had to have noticed the odd introduction. Maybe I was successfully nonchalant. I don't know.

As the night lingered on, Quiet Man, who spent most of the night without his wife, began to watch me a bit as I went to the bar, as I was laughing and talking to new people I had met, just in general having a good time.

I was out on the driveway with a wife of one of the muckety mucks we know. She is a nice lady. We had a fun time laughing and chatting.

Fred had some of his antique cars in his garages on display. I and Diana, the wife to whom I was speaking, decided to go and see the cars. Quiet Man was on the driveway with a man who I think was his brother, who was married to an identical Mrs. Quiet Man but with a different hair color. Quiet Man had mumbled something to me when he was introducing his manly wife about introducing me to his brother. I ALMOST lost it when he said that.

He did not introduce me to his brother, who was really repulsive, I thought.

So Diana and I go into the garage and just peered into the first car. I then felt a hand on my back. It was Quiet Man.

What the hell did he want?

"Excuse me, " he said without acknowledging he knew me, "I have to get some cigars out."

"What?" I demanded, letting him know I was very annoyed.

"Excuse me, I need to get the cigars."

The men were smoking cigars. I was like, I just get to this damned car, you probably saw me coming here, and now you want to get cigars out of this damned car while I am here?

I said, "Fine. We will just go and look at another car."

Diana and I moved over to the next car.

Quiet Man's cigars where in a box on a wall, not even in the car. I was getting madder.

So Diana and I go out onto the driveway again which was lit and Fred's caterers where set up by us and doing some kind of cooking demonstrations.

A few other women came to join Diana and I and we were all chatting and laughing in a group.

Fred then comes barreling through our group, pushing aside the women to get to me.

"Muse," he said, "I want to introduce you to So and So."

I can't remember the man's name.

"Oh, hello So and So," I said.

It then dawned on me the man requested an introduction to me. He had blondish red hair. I am not attracted to men with such hair, but he was attracted to me that was for sure.

I had to endure the most blah small talk that eventually turned into his pridefully exclaiming to me that he was a Mr. Mom. Oh, So and So, that makes you so alluring to a single woman, you charmer you!

So and So did not know how to keep his hands to himself. I was dressed very demurely. I had on a crew long sleeved sparkly top with a below the knee sparkly skirt. My hair was pulled back and I was wearing a brownish high shine lip gloss. Definitely nothing standing out that night.

So, as Mr. So and So was grabbing my arms and rubbing them up and down, offering to fetch me drinks I could get myself at the bar, it dawned on me as he was speaking I kind of knew who he was. He was Quiet Man's friend. I remember Quiet Man telling me about him. This revelation made speaking to him even more uninteresting.

The next thing I know, Quiet Man rushes up to the both of us. He was looking me right in the eye and had grabbed my upper arm.

He was questioning Mr. So and So how he knew me or something like that. I was so angry with him at this point, I was not even listening to what he said. Mr. So and So was beaming with pride about me for some reason. I looked Quiet Man right in the eye and nastily told him that Fred introduced us.

We locked eyes. I was being a bitch and not caring. Mr. So and So felt the cold front move in quick.

"All I am saying Muse, is that I should have introduced you."

"What?" I demanded. Who the hell was he to think he needs to introduce me to anyone at all?

"What did you say?" I quietly yelled at him as I tried to bore holes into his head with my stare.

"So and So, Muse is the most intelligent woman, she is well educated. She is such a good person, a wonderful person...." and god know what else he was saying when he topped it off with, " And So and So, Muse is my friend."

At that very moment, I had it with him. I had it with his crap and his friendship nonsense.

"Quiet Man," I snorted while looking him dead in his eyes, " I am NOT your friend."

My stare was cold, long and unrelenting.

"You are friends with anyone you stumble upon, anyone you can find," I continued.

Quiet Man stared at me in disbelief. He started to stumble on his words, trying to back track out of my anger.

"What are you drinking, Quiet Man?" I demanded.

"Water," he said, holding up his on the rocks glass.

"Since when is water yellow?" I contradicted him, "You have got to be kidding."

He ended up leaving us. So and So was still there.

He starts to tell me how he knows Quiet Man and what a good judge of character he was. Like I cared.

"So and So, you know what?" I interrupted him, "Quiet Man has a lot of secrets."

Why I said that, I don't know.

"Yeah? Tell me then, Muse!"

"No, I won't," I told So and So, "If you really want to know, go and ask him. It's a good time too, he is drinking, and hopefully quiet heavily, so you won't have a hard time of it."

I made my excuses to exit the company of Mr. So and So.

A while later, I saw Quiet Man and So and So talking to each other, with Quiet Man looking at me.

I left a short while after that to go home.

Hopefully that will be the last I see of Quiet Man. So far, so good, is what I can report.

I LOVE New York, Too

OK, I am a reality show freak, because I need to watch mindless TV.

I am just getting over Rock of Love, and it was the first time I heard about Bret Michaels, who after watching almost every single darn episode, I found him so cute and loveable. I think because he was a Piscese. I never dated a Piscese man, but they seem to like me a lot. Weird. Actually, he seemed to be more macho than most Piscese men I have met, because they are usually more sensitive and meek. I like a man's man with an imposing figure.

But, I can't wait to start watching my girl New York. It's so trashy, I love it. I have to see her kiss the midget.

Good Job Holding Up the Wall, Quiet Man

We all know the best laid plans of mice and men.

I went to a birthday party last Saturday. Of course I was alone but I knew most of the people who were going to be there.

I was wearing a low cut halter topped dress just below the knee in cream and a dark tan. It was so low cut, I was having a hard time covering up the tan lines from previous outfits that just would not fade.

As I walked into the room of the restaurant from the outside, I was warmly greeted by Muse! Hello Muse! and many hugs and embraces.

As I looked up, there was Fred and Quiet Man holding up the back wall.

I had held on to my friend Van, and elderly gentleman a few seconds too long, which he probably enjoyed, because as my head was resting on Van's shoulder, I saw two pairs of eyes lock onto mine.

They each had a drink in their hand and stood there like two school boys. Quiet Man was intently gazing; Fred was just plain staring.

So the night went along with my standing in their direct view, chatting with everyone. They did not move too far from the wall. Quiet Man who had other avenues of exit to go out and smoke, chose to brush past me without any greeting or direct look. I did the same, and did not yield any right of way.

When the birthday boy's mom, Trudy, came to say hello, she wanted me to go to the bar with her to get a drink. Unfortunately Quiet Man was holding it up at the time. After a little cajoling from Trudy who asked me is there someone there who likes you but you don't like them? I ended up nudging up to the wine bar directly behind Quiet Man, got our drinks and returned to my previous position.

Fred in the meantime unwittingly provided, just for me, some invariable entertainment: he likes blondes, but apparently was going "low rent" and "low looks" that night, because he was cozying up to some fake ones with aged faces. Quiet Man was every once in a while looking over. I looked right at him as if he was part of the wall he was holding up for most of his stay.

Quiet Man had turned his back to me and had Fred to the wall, whispering something to him. I garnered it was about me, because why else would he speak to Fred without anyone being able to see?

They decided to leave early, because it must have been pretty boring holding up the wall while I has actively engaged with most of the party goers who had stopped to chat with me. I had many invitations to go and sit at various tables, but why should I when I had the best place in the resturant party room?

As they left, Fred went one way and Quiet Man decided to squish himself by me, took the liberty to throw a glance at my decollate, looked me right in the eye, raised his eyebrows at me with a broad closed mouth smile and moved on. My reaction was as if I was staring at a wall.

I Ask Again, WHAT are These Two Thinking?

OK. Here is the latest in the Fred and Quiet Man world.

Last night, I spoke to my mother, who for what ever reason was talking to Fred.

He is having a cocktail and dinner party, complete with white tents and god knows what else at his new multimillion dollar home. I point out the price, because that is what his stupid party is all about, look at me, Fred, I am wealthy, I spend money, I am fabulous, love me, look at me, etc etc etc.

I think he is also trying to out do the son of the famous mother on TV person who had the party at his mansion last year. I would take bets.

Now, my mother has no idea about Quiet Man. She handed me the engraved invitation-that looked like a WEDDING invite-complete with picture of Fred's new digs.

Today my brother who also talked to Fred earlier in the week, and asked me today if I was going because he had to give Fred a head count. My mother mentioned he specifically asked for me; my brother had the invitation Fred himself wrote out for me. My brother really likes Fred and Quiet Man and they him. He felt the need to tell me that today, as if to force my hand into saying yes I will go, because if I don't, then I guess he does not want me to insult Fred, by not going.

I think Fred will be insulted if the bum on the street refused his invitation, because it's a fact Fred would log in his mind as a rejection of Fred. Remember, its all about Fred and his ego. And don't forget, Fred considers Quiet Man the equivalent of his brother. Where these two found each other, I have no idea.

I cannot believe this. Fred's invitation says we are invited as guest of Mr. & Mrs. Fred. I felt like calling Fred up on his RSVP numberS- yes he has like FIVE RSVP numbers on the invitation, and asking him where will all the other potential Mrs. Fred's will be on that night?

If Mrs. Fred is going to be there [why wouldn't she, it's her house] will Mrs. Quiet Man be there? My family is thinking it's strange that I am hesitating on an RSVP. It's because they do not know what I, Fred and Quiet Man know.

Would Quiet Man show up without Mrs. Quiet Man? Perhaps, but I don't know. He never even talked about her for all the months he was hitting on, inquiring about, flirting with me and asking me out.

Of course, I am on the fence, pondering what to do. I should go and ignore him with or without Mrs. Quiet Man. I should not go and maybe Fred and Quiet Man will get a message they have apparently not understood by my utter refusal to interact with them since the end of MAY 2007. If I go, I am sure with Mrs. Quiet Man there or not, he will make some sort of attempt to converse with me. If I throw a drink on him, I will look like a crazy woman, because only one other person will know why I threw that drink.

I could conveniently force him to introduce Mrs. Quiet Man to me and put him on the hot seat, but I have not any interest in that woman, much less want to see her middle aged ass.

Whether he is there alone or not, if I refuse to speak to him or don't act naturally enough if I do, my mother's radar will pick that up lickety split and I will have that issue to deal with, especially if she sees a Mrs. Quiet Man. My mother thinks Quiet Man is single anyway.

Fred sucks.

Italy

After spending most what felt like most of the darn summer in Italy, I have to say its taken until now to at least feel back to normal, or it may be how my cup runneth over with work is what is dragging me down. Don't know which.

Here is a photo from Pompeii.

It's actually stamped/carved into the stone to show the way to the brothel, which by the way, had paintings on the wall so the men could point and choose the various services of the Pompeii Prostitutes.

It's the End of the Road, Quiet Man

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.

"Quiet Man."

"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.

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.

Whew!

OK, I know. I need to finish the Quiet Man Saga. But, I am trying to get the hell out for a vacation and its been hellish with the passport thing and all, and I don't have the time, so it will have to wait until I get back from Europe in mid to late July.

And I still have not packed one thing and I still need to get more things. I am now trying to get organized- ie should I take my digital camera or buy a small newer one? I have a "bulky" sony one-a cd mavica-nice camera but large; should I take my lap top? Should I rent a GMS phone?

Should I bring curling iron and try those horrid plug converters? Should I buy new converters? What the hell am I going to do on the plane for 6-8 hours or whatever the damned flight length is or is not?

How many outfits should I bring-about two per day? How many shoes can I bring versus how many I want to bring? Where can I get a damned lightweight shawl for visiting the the Vatican when I get to Italy since you can't go sleeveless in the tempestuous heat and can't wear shorts either.

What should I bring besides Benadril if the sun gives me a rash as it usually does but has not lately, but as of late, yes it has and a weird one at that: on the tops of my hands by each thumb- just some slightly raised bumbs that do not itch, but make me scratch them lightly every onece in a while. What the hell is that crap anyway? Another thing to figure out, in addition to whether or not my fantastically pink Victor Longo lip gloss, acted as a magnifying glass to my lips last week when I somehow got a bad case of chapped lips after hanging out in the sun with it for about 1.5 hours.

Should I buy running shoes- I don't run- for the support or buy those nice pink NIKE sneakers that look like shoes but are not but look like they don't have any cushioning either?

So these dopey questions are what are occupying my thoughts at the moment, including the poundage permitted to fly-suitcase I mean. I can only take ONE DAMNED SUITCASE!!!!!!

Wish me luck in remaining sane, while holding ad infinitum with the passport people and hoping to GOD that it arrives Thursday as my local congressional office was told it would-WHEW!

Happy New Year, Quiet Man

After the TJMaxx event, I think the next time I saw Quiet Man was on New Year's Day.

Yes, New Year's Day.

Christmas came and went and so did New Year's Eve. We had all attended a New Year's Eve party at a local restaurant, the one that Quiet Man had reacted to with the "Let's go!" comment.

The restaurant was not all it was cracked up to be; they must have a great photographer with lots of fancy editing and effects, or I was just to wrapped up into the party to notice the supposedly fantastic décor.

At 12 pm New Year's day we were invited to a ceremony on the local level. I was so tired; we had New Year's Day dinner cooking and it was cold outside because it was January. I was dragging. I really did not want to go out.

Harry was eating dinner with us. I told him I had to go to this ceremony and was getting ready to head out.

"Oh, OK, Harry, you can meet me there," I told him. He was hinting for an invitation, so I told him where I was going to be. Harry lives in the city where the infamous TJMaxx was located.

The room was crowded and there was only standing room. When I had arrived, I did not see a soul and it looked empty. Where did all these people park that were in this room?

As the room began to swell with bodies, I was standing with some acquaintances. I go back and forth with calling people I know acquaintances or friends. I had a boyfriend once who had this system with friends. You started off as a buddy and then he would elevate you up to friend. His logic was that friendship had to be earned and when you reached that level, it was like for life or something intense like that. I used to call everyone a friend and if it did not work out, oh, well, no big deal. Then I used to think about the old BF's logic and it kinda made sense.

One of these acquaintances was Fannie. She had a husband name Nick. Nick was very nice. Fannie was fake as far as I was concerned. One reason I think Fannie was fake because she was very unfriendly when she was first introduced to me. Then when she realized, how childish is this, that she was on the "outside" with others in our group and I was definitely not, she went out of her fake way to exclaim to me that when we first met, she was observing me and decided I was such a nice person. What a load of crap, but of course, I did not tell her, my fake way right back to her.

So, Fannie finds me and sticks to me like glue because I was up front. Never ending chatter coming from her, and we were stuck like everyone else, like sardines. All I wanted to do was sit down and close my eyes. I was not even listening to what anyone was saying. It was all droning at that point. I had not taken off my sunglasses, either, despite being inside. I knew I must have had bags big enough to travel to Europe, and that is for sure.

In the middle of the ceremony and trying to answer another of Fannie's inane questions, I had turned to whisper to her and who is in the crowd but Fred. He was alone, which was odd, because he never goes anywhere without Quiet Man, as far as I knew. I had thought they were so odd, with dressing the same, how they agree on everything it seemed, I had told each of them, without the other, they must be gay. No, as far as I know they are not gay, but geez, they seem so much in sync, it could be, it could be. This was one possibility that ran through my mind as to why Quiet Man was weird to me.

Well I had about enough of standing in my high heeled boots and I had to make my way downstairs to sit down and I did not care if I had to go sit on the curb outside. I told Fannie I was leaving, and lo and behold she was as well.

I noticed Fred was not in the spot I had seen him earlier.

We get down to the first floor and I ran into a person I just love: Van. Van is just the sweetest, honest and genuine man I have met in a long time. He does not have a malicious bone in his body.

I go through the door to the hallway that also posed as a waiting room because it had long wooden benches along its walls that people sat at before going upstairs.

"Oh, Van!" I cried as I put my arms around him and welcomed him. By this time, Fannie and Nick joined us. We stood by the door and chatted and chatted. Van is about 70 years old and was beating cancer. He is so sweet and corny at the same time, he is just charming.

I had not seen Van in about two months. So I was filling him in on what needed to be said to bring him up to speed. Fannie was trying to get in on the conversation, which was annoying.

When Fannie, who really did not know Van, was interjecting herself, I quickly turned around to see who was in the hallway with us, and because I can’t stand people who look at me from behind. I had been facing Van for a long time while talking to him and my back was to the hallway.

I turned and saw Quiet Man sitting on a bench, staring at me. He was leaning forward on his knees, just looking. Down the hallway. In our direction.

He was sitting next to Fred, who had one of his daughters with him. Fred was sitting on the bench, just sitting.

The two of them, so weird.

I turned back to my conversation with Van as quickly as I had looked behind me.

It had un-nerved me somewhat and caused me to talk even faster to Van, who was trying to keep up.

Nervously, I had turned a couple of more times and looked right down that hallway as if he was not even there. Sometimes he was looking, other times he was not and once, he was not there at all.

When he was not there, I waved hello to Fred, who cheerfully waved back.

Man, these two are odd.

I could not stand anymore and decided to sit on a bench opposite and a bit away from Quiet Man and Fred.

Fannie of course sat with me. So I made the best of it and talked to her.

We then decided to go outside and I was beginning to wonder where the hell Harry was.
On the way out, I walked right past Quiet Man. I looked right at him and said nothing as did he. Fannie unknowingly helped me do this by her unending blathering.

We were standing in the weary and cold January weather; it kinda woke me up, but I still kept on the sunglasses.

After chattering for a while, I saw Harry’s vehicle circling the parking lot. Geez, can he just find a damned spot and park? What was he doing.

I saw Harry walking toward the building after I flagged him down while he was still circling the parking lot.

I decided to go in before Harry got to the door, because in my sick logic of the moment, if I went back to my previous seat on the bench, Harry would be walking right by Quiet Man for sure.

So I did, and he did.

As I was talking to Harry who stood next to me, I eyed Quiet Man. He was looking at Harry and I. What is with this guy, I was thinking. What does he want?

I introduced Harry to Fannie. She was peppy and friendly with him, but before she could move over and make room for him, I told Harry to sit on the empty bench opposite me. I did not know Quiet Man was going to be at this ceremony, and I don’t think he even went upstairs. So why would this man come to a ceremony on New Year’s day to sit on a bench and not even go in? I knew he was not interested in these things, and the answer was that Fred wanted him to come. So what is up with that? I could not even think of a normal explanation for how those two operated.

So Fannie was chatting it up with her new friend, Harry. Harry has a way of slow speaking that drives me up the wall. Harry is a Taurus and they do everything their way and they don’t believe in rushing. Taurus men are very funny, but bossy and possessive. You have to adapt to them, they will not adapt to you. I don’t adapt, so I don’t know what is wrong with Harry.

I had turned to look at Quiet Man who finally said hello. I replied hello back and continued on with Harry.

I then saw the best friend of one of the people involved in the ceremony. This is one good looking man. Tall, handsome, dark hair and blue eyes and a bright white smile that was large and generous. I had just met him the night before at the New Year’s party. He has a girlfriend, a former beauty queen, who I briefly saw upstairs with him. He was walking up and down the hallway, that I could not resist saying something to him.

“Hi Harley!” I said loudly and firmly to him.

I saw Quiet Man watching me from the corner of my eye.

“Oh, hello, Muse” he said with a broad and genuine smile.

“What are you doing walking up and down this hallway by yourself ? “ I said while wondering why the hell I said that.

“I cannot find Yvonne,” he replied while explaining she left upstairs to come down and now he could not find her.

What was wrong with that girl, leaving this handsome and genuinely sweet man? If I was with him, there would be no way in hell I would let him wander around looking for me. What was wrong with Yvonne.

“Well, Harley, I have not seen her and I have been here for a while. So how long are you staying? “ I nosily asked.

Well Harley and I had a nice time conversing, while Fannie was trying to talk to Harry and nose her way into getting introduced to Harley. I was not obliging her.

Harley is really a gentleman and took time off from looking for Yvonne to speak to me, which was thrilling. Harley comes off as very genuine, which I am sure he is, but since I only met him the night before, I had to qualify it, but he was an officer in the Navy, but was now out. His family is a billionaire family but you would never know it at all; he was so real and sweet. He was a regular guy with impeccable manners. A gentleman.

I could feel Quiet Man watch Harley and I. Oh, all the giggling and laughing and smiling I was doing while I was watching Harley as he spoke to me, made my face hurt.

“Muse, you have the most beautiful hair,” he threw into the conversation like a rocket.

OH MY GOD, I was so embarrassed. The conversation we were having was mundane, about him going back to Washington D.C. with Yvonne and the party the night before. I hoped Quiet Man heard that. Harry could have had a bomb go off on him and he would have continued doing what he was doing, probably telling Fannie all of his joke stories that crack him up into hee-haw laughter, a true Taurean trait.

Harley was looking at me. He was almost standing over me, looking down. His smile was brilliant. His eyes animated.

All I could think about was where the hell was Yvonne?

As I usually do when I am caught off guard, I rattle on about something until I can change the conversation or exit it altogether. I blurted something out about donating my hair and went into excruciating detail about hair donation enough so that Harley would be silenced.

Eventually Harley decided to move on and try and find his lady love, Yvonne.

The crowd was on its way to a small reception in the building across the way.

I collected Harry to go over and had Fannie and Nick in tow. Fannie was still chatting away with Harry.

Quiet Man and Fred had already made their way over.

I said hello to Fred again while getting something to drink, a plain cranberry juice. Quiet Man was standing above everyone due to his height, all those rushing the snack and beverage table. Lordy, what people do when there is free food and drink always amazes me.

I had left Harry and Fannie chatting outside the building. Harry had his back to the stone.

Quiet Man greeted me in his usual fashion, gallantly and sweetly. I was glad to see him but did not show it.

We spoke about the night before. He said he had gone into the big city with friends. I thought it was sort of odd that a grown man would go and watch a ball drop, but that is just me.

I had mentioned that the restaurant was nothing like it looked like on the internet. He stated he had gone there as well and it was not good.

He already went there, I thought. How weird is that? I thought. The place he was so fakely enthused to bring me and he went already. How odd.

Quiet Man was acting anxious. If he was not by Fred’s side or near him, you could see his eyes searching for him. Quiet Man excused himself from me and went directly to Fred.

After a short while, Fred came over to chat with me. I made small talk with him and then introduced Fred to someone he was happy to meet and got rid of him.

I was drinking my cranberry juice and it the juice level in my plastic glass was getting low. Tried as I might to get some more, I could not reach in between the throng of bodies vying for cheap fruit danishes, donuts and the usual variety of pastries and coffee.

Quiet man re-appeared. He was holding his coffee and a pastry he was eating. I appeared less than enthused when he resumed his conversation with me. I don’t remember what he was saying. I interrupted him to ask him to reach over and get me some more cranberry juice, which he did.

After a while, Fred announced he wanted to leave. This was when Quiet Man had asked me to go and talk outside and we where there for a total of less than five minutes. Fred’s daughter was inappropriately dressed for the cold weather, but that was besides the point: Fred had run out of people to talk to and I had long figured out if Fred is not the center of someone’s attention, and the better if the person is of some import, he is disinterested. Fred is a Leo and an attention hog and is not shy about it or anything else that shines the light on him.

Quiet Man said his goodbyes and then went to fetch the BMW 7 series to pick up Fred and his underdressed daughter so she did not have to walk in the January chill.

“Goodbye, Muse,” said Fred, who needs some sort of fanfare for his grand exit, even if its just to say good bye.

“Goodbye, Fred,” I muttered.

As they left, I turned to see Harry who was still outside, holding up the wall, talking with Fannie and her husband Nick.

Fannie walks over to me and exclaims, “Oh Muse, Harry is so sweet and so nice looking!”

Good for you, Fannie, I thought, I wonder what Nick thinks of all the attention you showered on Harry?

“Harry, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, Muse, hold your horses,” said Harry apparently enjoying the attention from Fannie and Nick.

We left Fannie, Nick and all the pastry hogs so that we could go and enjoy a nice New Year’s Day dinner and a fire made with Harry’s King’s Wood that burned blue and green in the hearth.

Oddly, Harry did not ask me not once about Quiet Man or where I was the whole time.

This was not the end of Quiet Man.

What Are You Doing, Quiet Man?

Now whether after or before this conversation with Quiet Man outside of Blockbuster about going to the restaurant, I saw him intermittently. Once when I was with another boyfriend/friend, I was walking towards Fred’s store. Quiet Man was with Fred inside, and all they could do was stare out the plate glass window. Quiet Man was leaning on his elbow on the glass counter looking outward.

As I was talking to Harry, my bf/friend, I waved to Quiet Man and Fred. Fred waves enthusiastically and Quiet Man does a wide half moon wave.

Another time I was Christmas shopping all day at our local mall. Harry was done working, it was a Friday and he wanted to get together.

“OK, I will meet you at your house” I told him.

The plan was to meet at his house so he could change into casual clothes and I could leave my car rather than him picking me up at the mall and leaving my car there.

On the way to Harry’s house, I was annoyed with Harry. He is very bossy. Since he does not like to talk on his cell phone while he is driving, that is his problem. So instead of calling his cell phone to tell him I decided not to meet him at his house, because I had more shopping I needed to do, I called his house. I could not leave a message due to his message box being full. Oh, well.

Eventually Harry calls me.

“Where are you?” he demanded.

“Why are you calling me from your cell phone?”

“Because I decided to do an errand after you did not meet me at home,” he said annoyed I did not take direction that night.

“So, where are you?”

“I am at XYZ Store.”

“How long are you going to be there?” he asked.

“Not long. I am leaving.”

“Meet me at the house?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Where are you now?”

He was just north of me, traveling south.

“I have to go to TJMAXX, so since you are going to be passing me, why bother going home?”

“Oh,” he realized, ”OK, I will meet you at TJMAXX.”

So I go to TJMAXX. I am wandering around looking at the Christmas things they had out.

As I am roving about, wondering where the hell Harry was, I see Quiet Man in the toiletries section!

OMG, I thought, what the hell is he doing here? He was casually dressed as if he just went to dinner; I knew he saw me before I saw him, because he was looking at the crap they had with feigned interest.

I was standing at the jewelry counter next to the toiletries; he must have been no more than 15 feet from me.

I dialed Harry.

“Where are you?”

“I just hit your car!”

“What! You hit my car?!”

“Heh, no, I was just joking with you. I am in the parking lot. I am coming in.”

“OK, I will be standing in the main aisle where you will come in so you can see me.”

“Okay.”

Now, as I was talking to Harry on the phone, Quiet Man heard my voice, I know he did. He did not turn around, he did not glance, he was fervently looking at all the woman soaps, perfumes, shower gels etc.

Harry comes bouncing into TJMAXX, all happy and giddy.

“Hey, Harry.”

“Hey, Muse.”

“Harry come and look at this jewelry,” I told him as I led him to look at the crap in the case. Quiet Man was still in the toiletries. The only man in the toiletries. And the jewelry was right next to the toiletries.

Harry is one man that loves jewelry. He has given almost each and every previous girlfriend jewelry and engagement rings, and to this day, still has every piece. Can you imagine? He collects it back when they break up.

“They just didn’t love me anymore,” he explains after telling a varied amount of similar stories about wrestling off the rings from their fingers during tender break up moments.

We must have circled that jewelry counter three times. Harry is pretty loud because he loves to entertain the ladies while he is shopping with me.

For example, once I snapped at him for getting on my nerves in the supermarket.

“The Judge told you, you better be nice to me!” he chided me.

And wouldn’t you know it, he had the old bitties turning around staring and whispering about me. And, he played it like a fiddle.

If we go to the dollar store, he follows me around asking me the price of items.

“How much is this?” he inquires.

“It’s a dollar.”

“And this, how much is it?”

“It’s a dollar.”

“What about this right here?”

I answer him, “It’s a dollar!” until I realize what he is doing.

“Oh, Honey, he is precious” one woman told me once. That just eggs him on to annoy me more and more.

Enough about Harry.

Quiet Man could have repeated word for word what Harry and I were talking about since he was more than within earshot.

Nothing; not a peep from him. What the hell was he doing was what I was thinking. It was a Friday night. Did he just come back from dinner alone? He definitely was alone in the store.

Quiet Man slips to the back of the store.

Harry decides he wants to go shopping. I stayed at the jewelry counter. I then went into the toiletries to see what Quiet Man found so interesting.

I was bent at one of the displays looking at something. Quiet Man went by me and I just caught his downward glance to me. What jerk, I thought.

I get into the main aisle.

I have Harry flagging me down from the opposite end of the store. Quiet Man was headed his way.

Harry had found yet another fleece outer top. He swears by them.

“Ok, Harry let’s go.” I told him.

I just wanted to get the hell out of that store.

I could not tell Harry about Quiet Man being there. I was not sure how he would react. When I first told Harry I met him, he was very surly about it all.

While going around the jewelry counter, Harry wanted to know where I wanted to eat that night. I told him I wanted a salad; he had wanted pizza or something like that at his friend’s restaurant. I was not in the mood for iceberg lettuce, what his friend thinks is salad.

So Harry pays for his finds and we go out onto the sidewalk.

“Quite Man was in there, let’s get going,” I told him to try and hurry him up.

“What?” he said.

“Oh, never mind, you heard me.”

He wanted me to ride with him, but I told him I was not going to leave my car. He was annoying about it and I told him, ok, we can go where you want, but I am brining my own car. It was a fair exchange, not leaving my car to eat iceberg lettuce.

Harry takes his time getting into his vehicle. He rolls his window down, and says, “You are going to meet me there, right?”

“Yes! What is wrong with you?” I said. He was annoying me now.

“Ok, see you there.”

I get into my car. I was wondering why I did not notice Quiet Man was in TJMAXX before I went in; maybe he arrived after I did?

As I was making my way out of the plaza, I had to go around the lot and it brought me on my way out in front of the store.

Just as I was going to pass TJMAXX, Quiet Man is walking out, without any purchases. He put his foot onto the pavement, right in front of my car. I stopped.

He comes over to my window, which I was rolling down.

He sticks his hands in to grab mine. He kissed my hands.

“Hello, Muse”

“Hello, Quiet Man. I was just in TJMAXX; I did not see you,” I lied.

He explained he was looking at the prices of perfume, since he claimed that these discount stores where hurting one of Fred’s business.

You have got to be kidding me, I thought. I am not kidding you. And he said it most seriously.

We made small talk about not seeing each other in a while and things like that. He was standing in the middle of the driving lane in front of the store, without a care if he was in the way or not.

I started to get anxious because I knew Harry was probably timing my arrival. I was mulling in my mind while Quiet Man was chattering on to me if I should invite him to eat with Harry and I. I decided no.

“Ah, Quiet Man,” I interrupted him, “I have to meet someone for dinner, who is waiting for me.”

“Oh, Muse, I am so sorry” he said as if he was imposing on me.

“Well, that is ok, I just have to leave. It was nice seeing you,” I told him as I cut the conversation short.

He kissed my hand and stepped back to look at me in my car. I waved goodbye to him and went off on my way.

I barely made it to the pizza restaurant without much time passing. I had sped all the way. Harry was waiting in the parking lot. The restaurant was closed.

I forgot where we went, but after that, Harry insisted that almost every thing we did, such as go to Starbucks and the like, was to be done out of town. He did not want any run-ins with Quiet Man or other similar such persons, as if it was an epidemic.

Geez.

Oh, Yes, You Are A Caller, Quiet Man

Friday came and went without a call from Quiet Man.

On Saturday morning I went to my local Starbucks. It was a chilly day, my just washed hair was wet, I had on a heavy sweatshirt under a down vest, and I was sporting sunglasses to cover my tired eyes. I felt gross.

I used to drink Starbuck’s coffee, but stopped after not being able to put up with or get used to its heavy taste. Hell, they have heavy duty breath mints of all kinds at the register to give you a clue.

That was years ago, but I did not mind their tea, JOY, to be exact.

I get on line and get towards the front.

I almost died.

I approached the damned counter, because at Starbucks they HAVE to get your order and payment despite you can’t even get up to the counter to pay.

At the same time I was giving my tea order, rifling through my pocketbook for money and wanting to SCREAM because I could not use the counter to rifle, out of the corner of my eye I saw Quiet Man. He was all smiles.

He came over to me and grabbed my arm and was so talkative.

“HI MUSE! So good to see you!” he said so enthusiastically while hanging on my sweat-shirted arm.

Of course everyone on line was paying attention to this spectacle.

I was SO ANNOYED that he blew me off and then acts like he did nothing. Did he have to say hello so happily? Also, I saw a dark haired older woman next to him which angered me. I was also so uncomfortable looking the way I did.

“Hi, Quiet Man,” I forced mumbled while I got out my money and glanced at him quickly. I did not turn to look at him again, and stared at the assorted teas on Starbuck’s back wall. Quiet Man was waiting for his coffee to be made. I got my tea first and turned to walk to the milk and napkin counter by going against the line.

I was looking for the milk for the tea and I see the dark haired woman that was with Quiet Man come over to the counter I was at; I was plotting in my mind the verbal assault I had ready if she bothered me at all.

I felt stupid because she then left Starbucks and got into her husband’s car. My imagination can be very active.

Quite Man comes over while I was re-capping my tea. I can’t remember what he was saying, except that for one second I felt much better he was alone. I never saw him in this Starbuck’s before I, analyzed.

Outside on the sidewalk, he insisted on talking to me. He invited me to go into Fred’s nearby office to talk with him. He repeated this two to three times. At first it was animated like an exited child. With each, "NO, I can’t, I am going into the next city, I have to meet someone," his enthusiasm waned.

“NO, I am meeting someone, “ I repeated.

[I was not meeting anyone.]

He then stood up straighter. He was looking down at me. He became cooler towards me and accepted that I was not going to drink my JOY tea while he drank his muddy coffee in Fred’s office.

HHMMPH!!!!!!!!!!!!! That is how I felt.

Now the stories I have previously related about Quiet Man and I were over the course of about month and a half.

The next time I saw him was in a parking lot. I was chatting on my cell phone with a friend before going into Blockbuster. It was anywhere between 7:30 and 8:00 pm.

I saw him walking to his car. My friend was chiding me because she thought I was very harsh with him. She insisted I apologize to him and see what he does to soften my nastiness. Nastiness? I did not think I was nasty. Did she forget he never did what he said he would do?

She pressed me and pressed me to just do it.

So I did it.

I yelled out to him and he held up his hand over his head. I was embarrassed.

“OMG, you MADE me do it and now he is not coming over,“ I yelled into the phone to my friend.

“Well, at least you know,” she said matter of factly.

“OH NO, he is coming over!” I told her.

As his green Jaguar SJX came over to me, he pulled up next to my driver’s window. He was somewhat smiling and opened his window.

I had my window down already, held up my finger to Quiet Man to wait a second, and told my friend I would call her later.

“You better!” she said.

“Hi, Quiet Man,” I began.

I then just blurted it out: “ I am sorry for not being so nice to you the other day.”

He threw up his hand with a sad kind of smile and said, “It’s OK, Muse.”

[PLEASE. I am going to kill my friend for convincing me to do something so stupid.]

He told me he was busy and had to go and turn on the heat in his garage where he kept his antique cars.

Why? Because its going to be below 40 degrees tonight.

And that matters because…?

“It’s not good for the cars,” he explained.

“Oh,” I said acting as if it was a missing piece of vital information.

So I proceeded to chat my head off with him; I was talking about New Year's and the restaurant they were going to have the party at for our group. On its website, it looked gorgeous, like something out of NYC. I could not believe they had a place like that were we lived.

On and on I went.

“Let’s go,” he interrupted me.

“What?” I said as I turned to look at him, “What did you say?”

“Let’s go,” he repeated, “to the restaurant.”

“Well, you have to call me first,” I told him somewhat demurely.

“I will call you,” he assured.

I was not going to fall for that one again. We said our good byes. And, of course, he did not call.

You Are So Alluring, Quiet Man

As long as this story is, there is eventually a point to its end. It's just getting there that is tedious.

I don't know what I was expecting from Quiet Man, nor had I figured out what he wanted from me. I was convinced it was something, but I was not sure what.

I knew one thing, I was going to find out as elusive as he was.

The evening of the celebration was more of a cocktail party at some local offices. It was still late fall and I decided to change from pants into a split front skirt with a ribbed turtleneck that just hit at my waist along with brown tights and a pair of matching color high heeled yet conservative suede shoes. I like those shoes, since they had an elongated and semi squared toe. I pulled back my hair so it cascaded down my back yet sat a bit high on my head. My make up was demure to go along with the outfit. The fuchsia lipstick was replaced by a coppery red.

I entered the offices from the ground floor.

The room everyone was congregated in was a bit small because of the secretarial sections took up most of the real estate, creating an elongated middle that was sort of like a runway of sorts, leading to offices and then wrapping around into a horsehoe shaped floor plan.

As I entered, Fred who was facing the door, called me over immediately. He greeted me kindly as always and introduced me to the man he was speaking to, asking me to guess his identity. I had spotted Quiet Man, again by himself, a bit behind me, holding up the half wall that fronted a secretarial corral.

I hate these guessing games and of course I could not think who this older gentleman was, but it turned out that he knew my father. Oh, what a tacit turn of events that was for Fred. He is easily amused.

As I turned around, Quite Man took a step or two toward me and pulled me to him. He held my hands and kissed me hello as usual.

As crazy and cramped as this set up was, they had waiters going around with what I call snacks, since to say hors d'oeuvres in this setting was ironic.

Quiet Man had quiet an appetite and filled his little plate with everything that came by. We were standing by the door and I started to chat with those who came in.

"Hi Muse" they would say and start to talk.

Quiet Man, who was eating next to me, after about ten to fifteen minutes of this routine, seemed disposed to not have liked it.

He took me across the "aisle" to the next secretarial corral where they had the wine. It was awful. I could not drink it but Quiet Man did not care. We commented it was not like the last wine they served at the home of the man with the famous mother. Eh, what could you do?

Though I do not at this writing remember the particulars of what Quiet Man and I talked about, he was a bit different; more open, talkative and animated with me. He focused his attention on me and only me. If someone interrupted us to speak to me, he would just look at them or look away.

After he had his fill of snacks, he wanted to move. He directed me to go down the aisle to see if there was somewhere we could talk by ourselves. We arrived at the round of the horseshoe and one room was open with the cake on a table, but there was no one it the room. I did not want to go there, because someone would eventually come in. I wanted to turn back, but Quiet Man did not. He then went ahead of me to continue on and turned to face me to encourage me to follow him.

I looked at him waiting for me to join him. He was strong and kind, and sweet. Gentle. And it was nice.

We went down the other end of the horsehoe which was a hall with rooms off of it. He entered the one on the right which was filled with a few people. I knew them but did not care for them. They all looked up at us when we entered the room. I did not care to stay and Quiet Man was ready to make himself comfortable. I indicated to him I wanted to leave, whispering to him it was not a place to have a conversation that would be listened to like nobody's business.

We explored quickly the other rooms from the hallway and none were satisfactory. As we made our way around, Quiet Man settled on a hallway corner across from the door to the cocktail party and next to the entrance doors.

He got me a seat to use, and we balanced our drinks on the half wall.

Quiet Man was conversing with me enthusiastically and yet very quietly. He came so close to me that only my knees where the only thing that kept him from getting closer. He had his back to everyone, just enjoying our conversation.

I must have been giddy. I don't remember, but his conduct was more than melting my usual cool exterior. I must have had an eternal and broad smile while sitting on that stool.

Quite Man was dressed casual and in brown, an unusual dark reddish sort of brown, that looked good on him. His height and imposing figure, for me, made me feel at ease and protected. I enjoyed sitting in that corner with my back against the wall and with Quiet Man at my knees.

After a while, he again took the lead and asked me to go outside with him. He wanted to smoke.

We were standing by the front entrance. When we got out there, Quiet Man was smiling at me. He was leaning over a post with his forearms and he tilted his head back. I remember talking at a furious pace about something since he made me nervous. As I was blathering on, I watched his eyes as they examined my chest down to my feet and back up again to look into my eyes.

I felt my face flush like a school girl. And I laughed. The attraction was strong and lingering. I had felt embarrassed that there I was, as he, I knew, with the white elephant of attraction between us.

The worst choice for that night was for him to pick the front entrance to smoke. As more and more people where entering and saying hello to me, I was also saying good bye to a good deal of them, while standing with Quiet Man in the same spot as when they came.

I knew they were staring because they must have thought, who is this man Muse is with? They must have thought as I did, that he looked, sinister. They had to because they would speak to me and quickly dart their eyes to look at him.

"Still here, Muse?" they would ask.

"Yes, why not?" I replied, while hoping they would not notice us more than in passing.

Quite Man was telling me about he and Fred's latest business interest. They were bidding on a gentleman's club. He asked me if he looked the type to own such an establishment. I told him he did not and Fred was more the type. He laughed and laughed and made me promise that I had to tell Fred.

A bit later, Fred had come outside looking for Quiet Man.

"Tell him, tell him!" Quiet Man pleaded.

Fred was interested in what was about to be told to him.

I laughed and refused, so Quiet Man told him and had a good laugh about Fred looking more the gentleman club owner that himself.

"Oh, no- you think that Muse? Me more than Quiet Man?"

"Oh, definitely," I told Fred, "You just have that look."

Fred laughed at the comparison.

Then, they had to leave Fred said. Quiet Man agreed, saying they had a meeting at 7 pm with the owner's of the gentleman's club at the Hilton. Fred apologized profusely.

"Muse, I am sorry. We have business. We are late, Muse. So Sorry," he pandered.

Quite Man genuinely apologized, probably noticing my disappointment in his imminent departure from me.

He reached over to me to embrace and kiss me good bye. Fred leaned over and did the same.

"Can I have your card?" asked Quiet Man.

That annoyed me since I gave him my card at our first meeting. But, I did not remind him of that and gave him another. He examined the card, looking at it and put it away.

"I will call you," he said, "tomorrow."

"Ok" was all I could say while thinking he told me at our first departure he was going to come to my office to visit with me, which he did not.

"Are you returning inside?" he asked.

"No, I will be leaving as well. I am tired."

"Can I walk you to your car?" he offered.

"No," I said, "I can get there myself."

We parted in opposite directions.

And that is how it ended for that night.