I've either lost my game completely, or I have NO. FUCKING. CLUE. what's going on right now and have just gotten the most jacked up signals EVER in the history of my putting myself out there and getting, I think, soundly denied.

BridgeBoy arrives a few minutes late this morning and stretches as we exchange pleasantries. He says he just got in from San Diego last night. Then he says he needs to get out at 6 because he has to put in a bid for Wildflower. I smile and say that's just fine, because that means, diary, that BridgeBoy has just woken up before dawn to come swim for all of 20 minutes on a Monday...which tells me he really, really wanted to come to the pool.

It also leads me to believe that he has not yet read my email, because he was down south with family for the entire weekend.

But then, THEN, he says: Oh yeah, I got your email, and I think we should be able to work something out.

*blink* *blink* *cockeyed look from the coach*

BridgeBoy: I mean, I think I have a meeting on Thursday, but maybe we could put something together for before then, but let me check my schedule first and see what's going on.

twids: Oh, right, sure. Well, no worries. It's not a big deal...

BridgeBoy: I read it last night and realized you'd written it on Friday...I'm a total loser for not writing you back sooner. I'm really sorry.

twids: Oh, no worries [game face game face game face you were not checking every ten minutes for his reply you were not not not], I'll just have to modify your workout today to express my thanks for your prompt reply. [that's right, kill 'im with a sarcastic dig, yeah.]

BridgeBoy: Right. Yeesh, I'm soooo happy I came to swim this morning! Hee! [commence the usual pre-swimming coach-swimmer banter].

I pondered that chit chat for the entire 20 minutes he was in the water. I went over the coal-raking that Sonya gave me on Saturday for mixing a business email with a pleasure email, saying she was sure he would think I was asking him to a power-breakfast instead of a date-breakfast. I insisted that I had done a stellar job of transitioning from work to social in the email...but now I wasn't so sure. Was he not clear that I was asking him out? Or, perhaps he's MORE than clear, but he's letting me down easy. But fuck! What if he's not clear, and he's trying to get ME to clarify before he walks into something he's misinterpreted to be social, and I just think it's business? Well, fuck, now I've thoroughly confused myself, so, when he gets out, I'll clarify for him and me what I was talking about in the email.

So, he gets out. And I try not to look rushed as I give comments to other swimmers and saunter over in his direction, and say:

You know, that breakfast proposition? Hrm, that was probably the wrong word for it, sorry, let me start over [ed note: Yes, I really did say that. Jesus.], that breakfast thing, um, in the email? That was a purely social thing, having nothing to do with the meeting on Thursday...I just wanted to clarify. I mean, I didn't want you to think...I just, um-

BridgeBoy: Oh, I know. I got that. Like I said, I think it can work...

twids: Yeah, okay, I just, um, you know, wanted to be sure that you didn't think it was a business thing...I mean, don't freak out if you can't do anything or if your schedule is booked or whatever. It's just a whenever thing, you know?

BridgeBoy: Oh yeah, no worries, I wasn't freaked.

twids: Okay, cool. [ed note: I am now more confused than I have ever been and will now retreat emotionally and continue the coach-swimmer banter as though nothing just happened...since nothing actually did happen].

So then he starts to say that now that he's putting in his bid for Wildflower, he's going to have to get serious about his swimming...to which I joke and gasp with astonishment, and he cracks a few more jokes, and then we say good-byes and he's outta there.

Right.

So, yeah. I'm thinking I've been rebuffed so subtly that I might not have even felt the knife. I suppose it could have been worse. He could have just ignored the email altogether and never acknowledged that I ever asked him anything. Or, he could have been waiting with any number of horrific options from the previous entry. But this? This I did not expect. I did not expect, "Sure, I think we can work something out." What does that MEAN?

Either that, or he's giggling his ASS off right now, knowing that it's driving me insane to have him be so friggin casual about something that should be VERY serious, damnit.

Ugh. Boys. Fuck it. I'm going to make pancakes.

Posted by twids at 7:59 am