I've Been Asked Out by a Nudist
How do I turn him down? I mean, I'm all for fringe lifestyles. A bisexual polyam-curious blonde artist can't be too dismissive of her fellow oddballs. But the man is quite creepy, bringing up his tendencies toward nudism in many conversations. (Those who live as they truly are tend to be very blasé about most things... I don't go about telling people I'm bi any more than Loren goes about telling everyone he's straight.) It's enough to make me cringe in distaste in front of him, which brings me to my next point. You don't want to be alone with someone who is incapable of reading basic facial or bodylanguage cues. Third, he talks so low and so fast that I have to ask him to repeat himself four times out of ten and usually end up just nodding like I'm paying attention for the other six.
It's not like I can avoid him forever, either. He's the life drawing model.
Speaking to him yesterday at the art club gathering I was increasingly subtly scathing to him as he spoke to me -and only me- as he modeled. "One time I was out hiking in nothing but sandals and a backpack," he said.
"At least they weren't Birkenstocks," I said, sharpening my pencils. My friends Adam and Rachel snorted trying to hold in the laughter. They got it. Meh.
I'd love to go to dinner with him on Thursday evening and flop down like I'm exhausted in the restaurant booth. I want to sigh as dramatically as possible, lay my head on my folded hands after I order my Chianti, and say "Ah hell, my boyfriend and girlfriend are fighting again. It's always over who's supposed to fold the socks." Unfortunately small towns on the fringes of the Bible Belt are not the best places for outing oneself. This is the place where they murdered Matther Shepard.
Yep. That threw cold water all over everything. Sorry.