Flirting & chocolate

I received a package with the earrings I accidentally left at the Brazilian's house in the mail yesterday, along with a friendly text message: “Sorry it took so long! I would love to get coffee when things calm down.” His Flickr page displayed a beautiful new photo of his chocolate machine, which gave me a little twinge of longing, as well as a rumble in my tummy (it really does look delicious). On my gchat list, his name continued to appear with a little red stop sign next to it, along with a note that he is busy.

I have to admit it: I haven't totally, completely given up on him. He may never contact me for that coffee, and it might be better for me if he doesn't. But part of me continues to hope that he will, and that the project he is working on has been an anomalous fluke of busy-ness that has made him ridiculously unresponsive. Not that I've given up looking, but none of the boring men I've gone out with recently or even the cute, Bambi-like Babe in the Woods, my handsome young co-worker, quite lives up to him.

Last week BITW and I were having our regular Monday afternoon flirt session on the playground when we had the following conversation:

Me: Do you want to become a classroom teacher one day? [Correct answer: yes.]

Babe in the Woods: God, no!!! I really don't want to work with kids.

Me: [Disappointed] Oh. It's funny that you've been working with kids for the past four years and you don't like them. Well, what DO you want to be when you grow up?

BITW: I majored in writing in college. This whole 'working with kids' thing was unplanned. I want to go to grad school eventually, but I really have no idea what for. Maybe get my MFA in creative writing.

Me: Oohhh. [Mentally thinking: Wow, if this guy were on an online dating website I wouldn't go out with him. He seems utterly directionless. But he IS very cute.]

Me again [as a young child frolics past us]: How can you resist them? They're so sweet!

BITW: I do like the young ones.

Me: You could teach the young ones! We need more men in elementary classrooms. [Mentally thinking: He's young and malleable. Maybe I can shape him into what I want in a man.]

BITW: True... [in a not-very-convinced voice]

It was a bit of an eye-opening reminder that 25-year-olds do not always make the best boyfriends.

So I continue to gaze at the little stop sign next to the Brazilian's name, and wonder if he will eventually call and turn out to not be such a disappointment. I tried to block him recently, and mysteriously it didn't work; even though he was listed as “blocked” in my address book, his name and stop sign were still on my list. The only way to get rid of him was to completely erase him from my address book, and if I did that there would be no turning back: he'd be gone forever. I don't feel quite ready to take that step.