Hi. Hello. Yes. Hi? Yes.
You'll be my friend, right?
Yes, that was me tapping you on the shoulder while you attempted to carry on a conversation with a person other than me. I would have waited for you two to conclude your exchange but I just remembered another interesting aside to the story about my uncomfortable late formative years—the story I was relating to you in the corner of the kitchen when you excused yourself to the bathroom several minutes ago.
So anyway, after my first roommate transferred to another school—you know what? We should exchange phone numbers. I'm always up for things. I could call you a half-dozen times in a row some evening or just show up at your apartment unannounced to keep you company when you're working on stuff or trying to unwind.
And did I overhear the two of you discussing the prospect of dinner sometime next week? I'd love to. Is sushi okay with you? Or we could do whatever you wanted. Great! It's a date then. Well, no—not a ""date"" date. That's not what I meant—although how cute a couple would the two of us make? But no. Let's take things slowly for now. We can see how we feel after dinner next week.
You're getting another drink? Okay. I'll just wait here in the living room expectantly until you return.
Wait. Hello? Yes. Hi. Yes, that was me tapping again. Yep, you know, right after you mentioned it, I decided I'd like to get another drink too-—is the reason I'm following close behind you.
Hey, we should throw a party like this together some time. Is your place big enough to have a lot of people over? It'll have to be if we're going to have a karaoke machine and everything. But we can figure that part out over sushi.
Oh, are these other friends of yours we're walking toward? Great. We can invite them to our party later.
Hi guys! Nice to meet you. This is a cool place, isn't it?
Well, they seem nice. But let's go talk in the other room. Here, I'll stand in the middle of the doorway.
You look like you're uncomfortable. Yeah, this party is kind of boring. And this music really sucks. It's your favorite band? That's cool. We should go to their concert next month. I bet we could get tickets on Thursday if the place is open. Would that be a good night to get sushi? Here, I'll enter a reminder about it into my phone.
Hey, that reminds me—we forgot to exchange numbers earlier. I think we got sidetracked talking to those other people. But anyway, are you ready?
Your phone's dead? That sucks. Cell phones are the worst. I used to have so much trouble getting a hold of one of my friends. I think they must have moved eventually.
But here, I can still get your number and then give you a call when your phone is charged. It should be okay by tomorrow, right? We could go get those tickets then!
So... what's the number?
8... Okay, and the next digits? ... 8... 4... uhuh.
Okay, I can tell that my inability to pick up on your displays of polite uninterest is making you uncomfortable. Frankly, you should have given up any hope that these none-too-subtle social clues would work after observing my tendency to stand six inches away from you while over-disclosing my personal issues without breaking eye contact or blinking for minutes at a time. But you seem nice, so let me explain how this is going to work.
You'll give me your phone number in the false hope that it will get rid of me. I'll continue my discomfiting anecdotes about people who are of no particular interest to you until you find an excuse to leave, then after tonight, you'll ignore my calls, which will become gradually less frequent after what seems like an impossibly long interval of time.
Of course, we could also discuss these issues over dinner next week. Does Thursday still work for you?
Matt's last column in the Daily Cardinal runs next Thursday. He'll just wait over here by the stereo for you to contact him at hunziker@wisc.edu. Or we could do lunch. How's Thai?
