Four’s Flights

and here’s what’s really weird: this guy we used to sorta know tangentially (we’ll call him Asshole for now) decided to come up from Florida to visit since he was visiting family in NYC anyway. I explained to him that this is a B&B and I’d have to charge him, though I’d give him a very reduced rate. He said he understood and showed up. I had thought he was making a condolence visit with me and would also want to see some of his old friends from the area, but as it turned out, he had no old friends, nor any new ones either, and expected to spend the entire time with me. Fortunately, I had appointments and students all day and managed to avoid him. He skulked around looking bored and sour, the few times I did see him. Then it turned out he expected me to make him dinner!!!! When I told him I really didn’t; feel like cooking, he offered, not to take me out, which would have been a treat for me, but to go to the grocery store and buy a roasted chicken — not even take-out from a restaurant! How chintzy can anyone get??? I said fine — was sick of him already and just wanted to get dinner over with. He went, and came back with some el cheapo salmon for me to cook  No, he did not even offer to help, much less cook. Turns out they were all out of pre-cooked chickens. He told me how to season his fish (advice I ignored and made it my own way), all the while moaning about how lonely he was down in Florida where he had expected to find flocks and flocks of women coming after him. “They’re all housewives or business women” he whinged, as if those careers disqualified them for association with a “poet”. I gave him a look and asked him what was wrong with housewives and business women, and he said they had no artistic sensibilities. Oh Really???? I was disgusted but managed to stay polite and at 9:30 I excused myself and headed off to bed. He said, “You mean I have to go in there now?” (indicating his room), and I said, well, you can use the living room if you like. He got a sour look on his face. I went to bed.

In the morning I found a bed not slept in and a note indicating that as I had been so rude as to reject him (???!!!!???!!!!) he had decided to leave rather than have to spend the night alone in his bedroom.

My husband not dead three months and he came here looking for a roll in the hay? With a woman who never expressed an iota of interest in him?? Is there any excuse for people like that?

AAARRRGGHHHHHH!

pretty funny though, when you think of him doing all that driving while grinding his teeth.

it’s been interesting to see who, among my old friends, have stepped up to the plate and taken me on in my sorrow. So many more than I could have imagined have really come through for me in important ways: sharing dinners, taking walks, helping with chores, or just holding my hand, and one old friend, Veronica, who drove all the way from Maine to spend a few days, and my oldest college friend, Harold, who drove five hours each way to spend time with me and lift my spirits. There’s only one glaring exception: an old “friend” of many years has totally wiped me off the face of his universe. I guess I should have expected it given what I’ve always known about him, but it still came as a mild surprise. Some people just can’t muster the emotional strength to actually BE a friend, can only take, and talk about it. It makes me sad to see this glaring deficit in someone I had hoped would grow just a bit more courage.