"The Classic Dip'n Run"

I was introduced to a new term by my friend Slinky last week: “the classic dip'n run.” This is apparently what has happened to me with the Brazilian.

The first thing that comes to mind when I hear the term is a similar expression from Michael Chabon's amazing book, The Yiddish Policemen's Union. The expression is “dip his beak into him/her,” and it refers to sex (yes, it's totally gross and I love it because it aptly conveys the sleaziness of many of the male characters in the book). Dip'n run could be interpreted as a reference to a man who disappears after sex. However, I choose to interpret it in a nonsexual way: my personal definition is that it refers to a situation in which a member of the male species tries out a relationship with a female for a short time, dipping into relationship territory, then flees out of fear of commitment, weird personal issues, or other mysterious reasons. (Who knows what they're thinking; when I asked my friend Li'l JC this question, she responded, "They're not.")

Presumably, the Brazilian made it back to the U.S. after his extended, volcano-induced stay in Europe. However, he has neglected to contact me, and I have not received a response since sending him a questionnaire several days ago inquiring if he a) is too busy to have a social life, b) doesn't want to see me again, or c) eloped in Europe and is no longer single. This is frustrating for a number of reasons, number one being that I left a pair of cherished earrings at his house, and number two being that I haven't seen him in a month but have spent much of that time thinking that he was excited to see me again. I didn't just think that because he offered to bring me back a gift from Italy or talked about going to the Cape together this summer, I also thought it because when I told him to let me know if he didn't feel excited about going out with me again he replied, “Still very excited!! [Please note the two exclamation points] I just haven't slept very well lately and spent way too much time in a windowless shop. Sorry about that!”

Another reason that I feel frustrated is that, in my humble opinion, he is significantly less attractive than me. This is a first for me; usually I have boyfriends who I consider to be my equals in attractiveness, but I liked the idea of being the more good-looking person in the couple, and plus I did feel attracted to him. If I were the Brazilian, I would be very excited to date me, and I would certainly not play with my emotions in this inconsiderate way.

I do feel a bit disappointed that I won't get to see the Brazilian's futuristic machines or taste the allegedly delicious chocolate that they emit, but in the end, I got few fun days with him and a whole lot of anxiety and annoyance. Not worth it. And if anyone thinks I'm going to mope around about this minor setback, think again! After my ordeal with La Moustache, this is child's play. As my friend Li'l JC put it, “You are more seasoned than a good wok.”