Area Lawyer Pulls Bait & Switch Ploy

This man is a library patron who would stop and talk to me whenever he came in over the last 3 months or so. Always behaved in a caring, gentlemanly way, and seemed genuine, spoke of his wife and children. He said he was a lawyer & I told him I had been thinking of getting legal advice about something, & asked if he could recommend anyone. I didn’t want to put him on the spot and presume to ask for free professional advice. But he said he would be happy to help me, & we made an appointment to meet. He was very kind.

I was off yesterday, and our meeting started normally, but before long I started feeling like he was really meeting with me for another reason, one I didn’t see coming, because he’s happily married. Or at least I thought he was- that’s the impression he gave. I noticed he was wearing his wedding ring as he suddenly started drawing me close to kiss me. I was about to say something, but he cut me off, going almost immediately to work and completely filled my mouth with his tongue. I was surprised, because I had no hint from him that he found me attractive, & he had mentioned his wife to me with fondness before. And I thought this was about helping me out when I need a hand while going through a hard time in my life. So I was surprised, but Not in a good way. I felt nothing for him and nothing in that kiss, which was way too tongue-y. It felt terrible. And I was disappointed and frustrated that he was making me have to deal with this. Thanks a lot, dude. That’s another layer of shit I didn’t need in my life. No.

We broke apart and he proceeded to basically ask me to be his mistress while he ran around on his wife, who had no knowledge and gave no consent. Ugh. No. After our marriage was over, but before being legally over, my ex and I were open and honest with each other. My ex knew I was seeing you, and was ok with it because he empathized and knew I was doing something I needed to do for myself. It was new and unusual and challenging, but we knew everything was that way lately, living with a marriage that was a dead shark on the floor. We were trying to find our way forward in a way that was best for us, not anyone else. I hope you can understand that you never had any competition. Still don’t.

I guess being treated like this by men is what I have to go through in our society as a woman on her own. Even if they behave as though they would never force themselves on someone or do anything inappropriate. It’s what I have to expect, here in balmy Gilead, Atwood’s creation coming to life. Fuck. Fuck my life.

So anyway, one reason I came by yesterday evening was that I was hoping against hope to be kissed by one of the only men ever who knew how to kiss me: You. Right away, milliseconds after our lips met, I was amazed, floored, that I’d finally found the perfect kisser after all this time, and felt like I was floating. There was more I was going to be amazed and floored by over the next few weeks with you. I loved every second of it, until I was mysteriously sent away. I thought from what you wrote in the lovely new poem, and that video you posted, that gorgeous performance by a Galician (!) Youth(!) Orchestra(!), and the talk of clocks and other things meant that you were ready to see me. They both referred to the last poem with “shared a secret smile” in it. But you never responded to any of my questions, trying to confirm your intent. Was it a test of some sort? I thought I heard the sound of a footstep or two after I knocked. If you were indeed home, you were not home for me. Again.

I still love you. Even though you confuse the hell out of me. Why can’t you talk to me?

I haven’t told you this- whenever I see a motorcycle or if the weather is particularly clear and pretty, it makes me wish I could see what it’s like to ride with you on your bike. I haven’t been on one since the only guy that asked me out in high school took me for a ride on his motorcycle. I liked it. But I went out with him because he asked me; I didn’t feel any particular romantic feelings for him. He was just a nice kid. I broke up with him before too long, though, because we had nothing in common and I was getting ready to go to SCAD (and I wouldn’t have told him this in a million years but dear God he was also hopeless at kissing, and I did not enjoy it at all). I found out years later that he grew up to be gay. The gays have always loved me, but Lord, Not In That Way- the guy that took 6 of us nerdy, dateless girls that were friends with him to the junior prom? He also grew up to be gay. I remember when we were all at dinner together, awkwardly trying to have a nice time in a formal setting, and two different old men came up to him and asked how he managed to go out with so many lovely ladies all at once, congratulating him and all. He seemed very embarrassed. Both of those boys pretended to be straight.

I think that riding with you on your motorcycle would feel quite different from that one high school ride.

I came because my experience with that man I was talking about first…that experience made me want to see you so badly. I needed the dissonant chords resonating in my mind from his grabbiness to be resolved, reset, returned to normal by the person I’m in love with, the one I want. The only one.