“What are you looking for in a woman?” she asked me with nonchalant interest over her bite of vegetables.
The day is testing me. I know it. I can feel it in my bones. How the morning started out with me grumpy as can be and wanting nothing to do with the day. Then work driving me mad with nonstop people coming into my office. Now she’s asking me this. I could just spit in her salad.
Since that day when I sat across from her and made that guy go away, she and I have sat across from one another eating our lunches at our customary table. Sometimes she'll start a conversation with me. Sometimes we'll just sit in silence eating our respective food. But never have we ever talked about anything personal before.
“Yeah. I'm not answering that,” I said as I continued to scroll through profiles on my phone.
“Oh come on. Why not? It's a legitimate question.”
“Because it has misunderstanding and other problems written all over it.”
She didn't like my answer, but she didn't argue back. She just watched intently as I continued to scroll through profiles aimlessly without seeming to give any interest in what I was doing.
“A typical guy. You don't even read them. You just look at the pictures and nothing else,” she said as she took another bite of her food.
“What?” I asked, confused as to why she would say that.
“You scrolling through the profiles. You're just looking at the pictures. You're not even reading the profiles. You're making judgements based on looks and nothing else. That's such a typical male thing to do.”
“I'm not looking at their pictures,” I said.
“Then what are you doing?”
“No. No. Go back to what you were saying. Calling me a pig and a typical male asshole that only judges women based upon their looks.”
Though I was kind of annoyed by her comment, I couldn't help but smile and laugh a little at the conversation we were having. I know she wasn't trying to insult me or actually start anything bad.
“I didn't mean to say that you were…”
“A scum-sucking-bottom-dweller that only judges women based upon their looks and cares nothing about who they are as a person?”
She started to laugh at my response to her putter her foot in her mouth. “I didn't mean that,” she laughed. “But what are you doing?”
“I’m not really doing anything. I just scroll through seeing if something catches my eye.”
“What's something that might catch your eye?”
“Sometimes it's a name. Sometimes it's a smile. Or sometimes it may be a location they are from. Just random things that happen to catch my eye,” I say.
“Then what?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“You don't write to them or say hello or anything?”
“No,” I say with no thought about who any of these women might be. “I mean, sometimes I might read their profile if I think it might be interesting. But I don't message them.”
“Why? Why don't you say anything?”
“What's the point? They're just going to ignore me. They might read my profile or something, but they never write back,” I tell her as I continue to flip through my phone.
“You don't know that. What are you saying that's causing these people to never write back?”
“It's not about what I say. I say the same thing any gentleman might say: Hello, how are you? I read your profile. You seem to be a very interesting person. Would you like to have a conversation with me? Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. It's about what I’m not. Which is a typically handsome, wealthy guy with six-pack abs and enough brain cells to hold a 5 minute conversation.”
“A 15 minute conversation! Thank you,” she said laughing at my description of what women look for. “And you know, we don't all look for that.”
“Oh yes you do,” I said in total disbelief of her comment. “I've been sitting at this table for a little over 3 years now. And you've been coming and sitting here at this table for about 10 months. And in that time, I literally cannot count all the men that have come and hit on you. And you haven't given even as much as the time of day to those men because they are not that Hollywood Dream Boat kind of guy.”
“That is totally unfair!”
“Hey, I'm not judging. I would have told every single one of those idiots to hit the bricks too if I was an attractive woman such as yourself. But the fact of the matter is, those men were all attractive, very self-assured nitwits that didn't fit the mold I outlined.”
“And what makes you think I’m looking for that stereotype?”
“1) You are a very attractive women. And this day in age, you have to work at it to be attractive like you are. Which means you expect the person you are with to work just as hard as you do in order to be attractive. Fair is fair. 2) You have very nice clothes. You obviously do not go shopping at Old Navy looking for the bargains because money is tight. Which means, not only do you have an appreciation for the finer things, again, you expect him to be able to afford a better lifestyle and not be some bum in K-Mart shorts. And 3) If any one of those guys had come up to you and said something original or interesting or half way funny, you might have talked to them. But they didn't. And you responded accordingly. Which means that you are looking for someone who's educated and intelligent, which not only allows them to have the finer things in life, but gives them the ability to be more creative and witty when meeting a beautiful woman such as yourself.”
“Ok, A) Stop judging me! And B) … Shut up!”
I could see that she was both impressed that I was able to deduce those things about her, and laughing a little and still having a good time. Which means she wasn't offended by what I had to say. Which made me feel good. She had a sense of humor about herself and that she was a lot more grounded than I gave her credit for.
“I don't mean a person is bad for wanting those things. I don't do any of those things that you do to take care of myself, but I still have my standards just as you do. Which means everybody is looking for something. We all have our fantasies.”
“Then I ask again,” she said. “What are you looking for in a partner?”
“That's just it. I'm not looking for anything. I just like to scroll.”
“Oh come on. You just said, ‘Everybody is looking for something.’”
“I'm not everybody,” I said trying to restrain my laughter, knowing I am purposefully being difficult.
“Oh, and I am? I'm so typical that you an figure me out in a heartbeat?” She asked.
“Typical? No. No way. Special? Maybe. But maybe I'm just that good,” I said with a cocky nod to myself.
“If you're so good, then why didn't you ever try to ask me out?”
“Because I'm not an idiot. I know when I don't even stand a chance. I might be funny and witty, but I know when I am out classed. And you are WAY out of my league. You should be with someone way better than I ever could be.”
“I don't know. You're handsome. Not bad looking. You are funny and witty. You make me laugh a little. And you certainly are not typical. That's for sure. I've never had anyone tell me they aren't good enough for me before.”
“No. No,” I said cutting her off. “For someone else you mean. I'm good enough for someone else. You mean I'm good enough to be your friend. But that's it. We would never be anything other than just friends though. Well, no thank you. I enjoy our lunches together, but I'm not looking for a friend. Thanks, but no thanks.”
This last comment of mine kind of hurt her feelings a little bit. Maybe if I was paying a little more attention I would have caught it. Maybe I would have not said it, or at least been kinder about it. But I was too busy being an ass and I didn't notice it.
She didn't say anything to me after that. She ate her lunch, gathered her things and left as she always does, a few minutes before one o'clock. She headed back to the same building she came from, where I have deduced that she has a corner office on the third floor of the 10 story building. It wasn't until I saw her walking back towards her building that I realized I had said something that hurt her feelings. Because she left without saying goodbye.
‘You need to make it up to her. You need to apologize to her,' I thought to myself. ‘You need to catch up to her and say you’re sorry.’