possible continuing adventures of The Very Bad Chaperon
I think Lindsay intentionally invites me to things when she knows they'll be awkward.
And I don't think it's that she believes my presence will, in some way, alleviate the awkwardness--but rather that my being there, awkward and stand-offish as I already am, will excuse the situation's awkwardness, as if I'd brought the tone with me and it were all my doing.
Last week, she passed along an invitation to go drinking with her and her coworkers (two of which are friends who have become smitten with her) and a "debutante ball" afterward. I declined for a few reasons. One, "debutante ball" ... ?
"Oh, just wear an old prom dress," she wrote over G-chat. "I'm wearing mine from junior year."
About that--my old prom dress is somewhere in North Carolina, and even if it weren't, even if it were hanging in my closet at home, I still wouldn't wear or drag it into town. It's from high school. It doesn't need to come back. It doesn't want to come back.
Two, going drinking with Lindsay's coworkers? Right. After having my ear talked off about her edgy work situation (every week she's telling me how she's going to get fired), that sounds exactly like what I want to do!
I told her that if I met Mike or Jacob (the two friends that have been throwing themselves at her), I would let them know to whom she's attracted (the slightly less obvious Mike) and which one she's vowed she never wants to see naked (the anorexic little giraffe known as Jake). And having confessed as much to her, she still invites me to go drinking with this crew ... Does she not believe I'll tell? I will. I really am that brash, especially after I've had a few.
Granted, I could just go along with it in a Cruel Intentions-inspired way, in pursuit of the plot to my scandalous autobiography: Adventures of a Very Bad Chaperon. But that might be more trouble than it's worth.
And I don't think it's that she believes my presence will, in some way, alleviate the awkwardness--but rather that my being there, awkward and stand-offish as I already am, will excuse the situation's awkwardness, as if I'd brought the tone with me and it were all my doing.
Last week, she passed along an invitation to go drinking with her and her coworkers (two of which are friends who have become smitten with her) and a "debutante ball" afterward. I declined for a few reasons. One, "debutante ball" ... ?
"Oh, just wear an old prom dress," she wrote over G-chat. "I'm wearing mine from junior year."
About that--my old prom dress is somewhere in North Carolina, and even if it weren't, even if it were hanging in my closet at home, I still wouldn't wear or drag it into town. It's from high school. It doesn't need to come back. It doesn't want to come back.
Two, going drinking with Lindsay's coworkers? Right. After having my ear talked off about her edgy work situation (every week she's telling me how she's going to get fired), that sounds exactly like what I want to do!
I told her that if I met Mike or Jacob (the two friends that have been throwing themselves at her), I would let them know to whom she's attracted (the slightly less obvious Mike) and which one she's vowed she never wants to see naked (the anorexic little giraffe known as Jake). And having confessed as much to her, she still invites me to go drinking with this crew ... Does she not believe I'll tell? I will. I really am that brash, especially after I've had a few.
Granted, I could just go along with it in a Cruel Intentions-inspired way, in pursuit of the plot to my scandalous autobiography: Adventures of a Very Bad Chaperon. But that might be more trouble than it's worth.