Why didn't he continue to fight?
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20 Dec 2007, 7:08 pm
I ran a google search on "I just think we should be friends" and I ran on the followign thread: http://www.squidge.org/dsa/archive/dram ... uming.html Since I am a slow reader, I didn't get a chance to read anything besides the section I am going to quote below (PLEASE READ THE TEXT I QUOTED BELOW, BEFORE CONTINUING READING THIS POST. THE PASSAGES BELOW IS A LOT SHORTER THAN THE ACTUAL LINK, AND THIS PASSAGES IS THE ONLY THING I WANT TO DISCUSS). So I don't actually know who Frazer was or whether or not the guy in question was really gay or not. However, regardless of that, I think he should have continued to fight to perswade that woman that he was straight. I understand if he was trying to be polite, BUT THE POINT IS THAT HE WASN"T. During most of the conversatoin THE WOMAN was the one who was trying to exit the situation in a polite way, while THE MAN was forcing the confrontation. Then, when she FINALLY admitted that she thought he was gay, he all of a sudden said that he had to go and left. She even followed him out of the door, so NOW he finally got her attention and she WANTED to pursue the conversation; yet he just left. So it makes no sense. If he went on all this length trying to force the confrontation, why didn't he pursue it once she was ready to talk about it?
Well, there is actually a clue in that passage, namely the following passage:
Quote:
He opened his mouth to object and realized he was sunk. She was a *lawyer*. Hell, she was a *prosecutor*. Case closed. He reached behind him for the sofa and realized he was too far away from it to sit down again. He really needed to sit down for this.
But she wasn't finished. He could see that--see that she was a lot like Stella, actually, except for the overbite and the wider hips and the Jewish thing. She was a lot like Stella. So it wouldn't've worked out anyway, probably.
*Even if she didn't think you were gay.*
But she wasn't finished. He could see that--see that she was a lot like Stella, actually, except for the overbite and the wider hips and the Jewish thing. She was a lot like Stella. So it wouldn't've worked out anyway, probably.
*Even if she didn't think you were gay.*
Regarding the first paragraph, I think it is the opposite: if she is a lawyer she will be willing to think logically and TEST HER ASSUMPTIONS. Most NT-s who are NOT lawyers are not willing to test their assumptions and that is the biggest problem: once they reach a conclusion, no amount of logic will help. On the other hand in case of a lawyer, yes it will help.
Now lets move on to the second paragraph. What does he mean she was a lot like Stella so it won't work out anyway? First of all, REGARDLESS OF WHEHTER OR NOT IT WOULD WORK OUT, he has to prove that he is straight to SAVE HIS PRIDE AND REPUTATION. I mean, suppose the cashier in a grocery store thinks you are gay, and it won't work out with that cashier anyway (say that cashier is 70 years old and you are only 20, or even worse your cashier is the same gender as you), now does it mean that it is fine with you that the cashier thinks you are gay? OF COURSE NOT.
And, as far as "it won't have worked out anyway" well, how does he know for sure? He can learn from the mistakes that he made with Stella in order not to repeat them any more. Besided, if he TRIES and it doesn't work out, then he will be able to say "well at least I tried" but here he didn't even try so he will always have that guilt feeling about not trying. Finally, if it "doesn't work out" for some other reason, it is always a lot better than his gayness being the reason. I mean just out of principle. Suppose you are about to go to jail for stealing from store A, which you are NOT guilty of. But you konw that you would of gone to jail anyway for stealing from store B which you ARE guilty of. So are you simply not going to care as to what you are in jail for? Well, I would. If you are in jail for stealing from store B, at least you are treated fairly. But in case of store A you were NOT treated fairly. And THIS is the thing that is most important: not to be treated fairly. So even if this guy was SURE it won't work out anyway, he should have done the best he could to be in a relationship and THEN screw it up for whatever the REAL reason might be (i.e. repeat whatever mistakes he made with Stela). That way at least the point will be made that his gayness is NOT the reason.
Now lets go back to his "speaking to the lawyer" remark. Towards the end of the quote you will read the following:
Quote:
"When you and your *friend* retire... can you honestly say you think you'll be married? Will he?"
"I...." Okay, so he hadn't thought about it in those terms, but yeah, probably, 'course they'd be married. Linda Stein-Kowalski. He laughed and shook his head. Now *that* wasn't looking so likely.
"Ray?"
"Yeah, look, I should be going."
"I...." Okay, so he hadn't thought about it in those terms, but yeah, probably, 'course they'd be married. Linda Stein-Kowalski. He laughed and shook his head. Now *that* wasn't looking so likely.
"Ray?"
"Yeah, look, I should be going."
Now HERE WAS HIS CHANCE RIGHT THERE. She asked him will he be able to honestly say he will be married. The answer is *YES* and its not even a lie. I mean, look at what he THOGHT TO HIMSLF in response to that quesiton: he said TO HIMSLF that the asnwer is yes. So "yes" is the truth. Now, WHY DIDN"T HE WANT TO SAY IT OUT LOUD if its not even a lie? Instead, he responded that he should be going. Now THAT was stupid isn't it.
Anyway, here is a quote of passage in question:
Quote:
"Ray, I--"
"Yeah?" he asked softly.
"I *would* like to meet Fraser sometime. And Dief, of course."
"Hmm. Yeah, sure." In the soft lamp-light, you could see the rainy night had given her a frizz halo on top of her wavy blond hair. He reached out to touch it but then she did tense and he let his hand fall to the back of the sofa. Not too casual, but not bad. Maybe he shoulda said yes to the sherry? Except he was already a little relaxed and had to drive home. 'Course, if he got lucky, he'd have plenty of time to sober up...
"Ray, I really like you--"
"And I really like you," he agreed, smiling, he was sure, a little stupidly. It'd been too long. The last girl--the one who didn't watch TV--had been four months ago. And they hadn't gotten any farther than a few heavy kisses in the GTO, like a couple of teenagers or something.
"But--Ray, I--I mean, I just want to say that I understand."
"You do?" he asked, watching the way her cheeks were pinking up. Not as bright as Fraser got when he was embarrassed.
"Yes," she sounded firmer that time, like she'd made a decision.
"So whattaya understand, Linda?" He liked saying her name. Linda Stein. Linda meant pretty, didn't it? Fraser'd know. Linda Kowalski. Nah. Probably Linda Stein-Kowalski. He reached out again and this time fingered the little gold star at her collar, tracing the thin chain up along her neck, placing his finger along her pulse, then following the chain down again, to where it dipped slightly at the top of her cleavage. Her skin was damp there and smooth, and she gasped as his finger brushed against her skin, gently, and then he drew back, watching her brown eyes go wider.
"I thought--"
He leaned forward just a little, and she didn't back away, and then he was reaching up again, letting his hand cup the back of her head, not really pulling her. He edged closer on the sofa, and then their mouths met and he pressed against her, waiting for her lips to open. He could already feel himself starting to get hard. And she would be so soft and warm against him. He wondered if she dyed her hair, and what color it really was....
But she pulled back.
"You're not--"
"What?"
"I thought for sure..." And now Linda was frowning, one hand coming up to touch her mouth where her lipstick was a little smudged, the shine taken off it, probably rubbed onto him. He licked his lips and tasted the waxy gloss on his lower lip. He'd even missed that.
"Ray, I don't think this--"
"Okay," he agreed, easy--not wanting to push. Well, he wanted to push, but he wouldn't. Never did. He'd waited years to get Stella into bed. He wasn't in a hurry.
"Look, I'll call you."
"Isn't dat my line?" he asked, trying to keep it light.
"Ray..." she sighed.
sh**. Why did this sound so much like a brush-off? And she hadn't, he realized, really responded to the kiss. She hadn't opened her mouth, except to tell him to leave. sh**. "You really going to call?" God, that sounded pitiful. What's she gonna say, no?
"Ray, I just think we should be friends."
"Friends? Sure. Greatness. But--"
"I like you, Ray. Really." Her cheeks were starting to pink up again.
"sh**. You *like* me? So what'd I do?"
"Nothing!"
"So what's with friends all of a sudden?"
"You--it's not you, it's--"
He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the wood table, at the cold espresso. "Riiight. C'mon, 'least be straight w't me. What--was it the restaurant? I pick the wrong date movie? What?'
"Ray, Ray--" and then she had that tone of voice, exactly that tone of voice--it was familiar, but he couldn't place it, couldn't figure out why it made him suddenly so angry.
"Look, I haven't done this much since the divorce." And suddenly he remembered being sixteen and in the pushed down backseat of the car and apologizing to Stella, 'cause he hadn't done it before, and she was blushing and looking at the floor of the car, just like this, exactly like this, and he'd wanted to sink into the floorboards and never come out again....
"Ray, it's--"
He stood up, his knee banging into the table and splashing some of the espresso and foam into the saucer. "Great. Greatness. *Don't* tell me. We'll just be *friends*, dat right?"
"Ray, I just--I thought you were--"
"*What*? What'd'ya think?"
"I just assumed you were--"
Ray noticed she'd stood up and was backing away. sh**, so now she thought she had a violent date on her hands? He held up his hands in surrender and tried to look calm, taking a deep breath and only after a second did it catch up to him what she'd said.
"You thought I was *what*?"
She repeated it again, so softly he almost didn't catch it.
"You thought I was...?"
She nodded, and stood her ground as he stepped around the table and came a little closer to her. Okay, so she didn't think he was dangerous. She just thought he was... *gay*??
"Why the hell'd ya think dat? Dat I was--" sh**, he couldn't even say it. "Not dat I got anything against 'em," he added, wondering why the hell he was apologizing. *She* wasn't gay. Was she? Aw, hell. "Is that it? Are *you*...?"
"What?" She blinked, flushed darker, and he had a moment of pleasure at that. "No. I thought *you*--"
"Yeah, I got dat." He nodded. "So--what--you thought I was--" C'mon, force it out, Kowalski--just say it--"gay--an' askin' you to dinner and you say yeah?"
She swallowed and seemed to consider that. "No, I, I mean there were rumors, but I don't usually listen--"
"Rumors?"
She nodded, repeating herself. He was glad he had her off-balance. "I don't usually listen, but then at dinner--"
"What? What happened at dinner?" sh**, he knew he sounded defensive. He brought his voice down, trying to stay calm. He was calm. It was just one of those misunderstandings, right? She just assumed wrong.
"It's just that-well," she paused and clenched her fingers, then splayed them out against her skirt, smoothing it down, or maybe wiping the sweat off them. "You kept talking about Fraser."
"He's my *friend*--"
"And you said he was your partner--"
"I *said* we used to work together!"
"And you live together."
"It's cheaper in a two-bedroom. He's my best friend and--"
"And you're going to retire together. In Canada."
He opened his mouth to object and realized he was sunk. She was a *lawyer*. Hell, she was a *prosecutor*. Case closed. He reached behind him for the sofa and realized he was too far away from it to sit down again. He really needed to sit down for this.
But she wasn't finished. He could see that--see that she was a lot like Stella, actually, except for the overbite and the wider hips and the Jewish thing. She was a lot like Stella. So it wouldn't've worked out anyway, probably.
*Even if she didn't think you were gay.*
"So, okay, so you thought I was--except I'm not. And you're not. Right?"
"Yes. I mean--"
"So what's the problem?" He shrugged, truly stumped. "I'm not--sh**, I was *married* for--"
"Oscar Wilde was married. With two children."
"You--" he slapped his forehead, running his hand through his hair and shaking his head. "Hold on. Hold on. This isn't about what you *thought*. You don't believe me," he said, softly, looking up and facing her. "You still think it. Because I didn't have any kids you think I'm a fag?" Okay, so there went the "let's make nice" voice he was trying for, but sh**--this was just too much. This was nuts. They were gonna be friends? Well, this sure as hell wasn't buddies.
"Ray, I--I don't know what to--."
"I'm not," he repeated, wondering whether it was worth arguing at this point. But it wasn't like he was never going to see her again. He'd see her in court, at the station...
"I believe you, Ray. I just--"
"What? You just *what*?"
"When you and your *friend* retire... can you honestly say you think you'll be married? Will he?"
"I...." Okay, so he hadn't thought about it in those terms, but yeah, probably, 'course they'd be married. Linda Stein-Kowalski. He laughed and shook his head. Now *that* wasn't looking so likely.
"Ray?"
"Yeah, look, I should be going."
"Ray--I'm sorry, I--"
"'sokay. You just call 'em like you see 'em, lady. I'll do the same."
He walked to the door and she followed, and he turned on the porch and looked at her, studying her, trying to figure out what just happened. She looked upset, worried. She wasn't gloating. Hell, she wasn't anything like Stella.
Maybe he could salvage things. It wasn't her fault she read things wrong. "Linda, look-- I appreciate your bein' honest w' me. We just got our wires crossed or somethin'."
She nodded, and just for the hell of it, he leaned forward and kissed her, once, on the cheek, before she could pull away.
"Goodnight, Ray." Yeah. That's how it was.
"Night," he responded, turning away and running down the steps, hunching his shoulders into the rain that'd gotten harder. By the time he got past the front lawn and into the GTO, he was wet and cold, and he sat back in the seat for a second before turning the ignition key, shaking his head and letting the water spatter the car's interior. What a screw-up. Fraser'd get a real kick out of this.
He headed home, realizing he wasn't going to tell Fraser about any of it.
"Yeah?" he asked softly.
"I *would* like to meet Fraser sometime. And Dief, of course."
"Hmm. Yeah, sure." In the soft lamp-light, you could see the rainy night had given her a frizz halo on top of her wavy blond hair. He reached out to touch it but then she did tense and he let his hand fall to the back of the sofa. Not too casual, but not bad. Maybe he shoulda said yes to the sherry? Except he was already a little relaxed and had to drive home. 'Course, if he got lucky, he'd have plenty of time to sober up...
"Ray, I really like you--"
"And I really like you," he agreed, smiling, he was sure, a little stupidly. It'd been too long. The last girl--the one who didn't watch TV--had been four months ago. And they hadn't gotten any farther than a few heavy kisses in the GTO, like a couple of teenagers or something.
"But--Ray, I--I mean, I just want to say that I understand."
"You do?" he asked, watching the way her cheeks were pinking up. Not as bright as Fraser got when he was embarrassed.
"Yes," she sounded firmer that time, like she'd made a decision.
"So whattaya understand, Linda?" He liked saying her name. Linda Stein. Linda meant pretty, didn't it? Fraser'd know. Linda Kowalski. Nah. Probably Linda Stein-Kowalski. He reached out again and this time fingered the little gold star at her collar, tracing the thin chain up along her neck, placing his finger along her pulse, then following the chain down again, to where it dipped slightly at the top of her cleavage. Her skin was damp there and smooth, and she gasped as his finger brushed against her skin, gently, and then he drew back, watching her brown eyes go wider.
"I thought--"
He leaned forward just a little, and she didn't back away, and then he was reaching up again, letting his hand cup the back of her head, not really pulling her. He edged closer on the sofa, and then their mouths met and he pressed against her, waiting for her lips to open. He could already feel himself starting to get hard. And she would be so soft and warm against him. He wondered if she dyed her hair, and what color it really was....
But she pulled back.
"You're not--"
"What?"
"I thought for sure..." And now Linda was frowning, one hand coming up to touch her mouth where her lipstick was a little smudged, the shine taken off it, probably rubbed onto him. He licked his lips and tasted the waxy gloss on his lower lip. He'd even missed that.
"Ray, I don't think this--"
"Okay," he agreed, easy--not wanting to push. Well, he wanted to push, but he wouldn't. Never did. He'd waited years to get Stella into bed. He wasn't in a hurry.
"Look, I'll call you."
"Isn't dat my line?" he asked, trying to keep it light.
"Ray..." she sighed.
sh**. Why did this sound so much like a brush-off? And she hadn't, he realized, really responded to the kiss. She hadn't opened her mouth, except to tell him to leave. sh**. "You really going to call?" God, that sounded pitiful. What's she gonna say, no?
"Ray, I just think we should be friends."
"Friends? Sure. Greatness. But--"
"I like you, Ray. Really." Her cheeks were starting to pink up again.
"sh**. You *like* me? So what'd I do?"
"Nothing!"
"So what's with friends all of a sudden?"
"You--it's not you, it's--"
He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the wood table, at the cold espresso. "Riiight. C'mon, 'least be straight w't me. What--was it the restaurant? I pick the wrong date movie? What?'
"Ray, Ray--" and then she had that tone of voice, exactly that tone of voice--it was familiar, but he couldn't place it, couldn't figure out why it made him suddenly so angry.
"Look, I haven't done this much since the divorce." And suddenly he remembered being sixteen and in the pushed down backseat of the car and apologizing to Stella, 'cause he hadn't done it before, and she was blushing and looking at the floor of the car, just like this, exactly like this, and he'd wanted to sink into the floorboards and never come out again....
"Ray, it's--"
He stood up, his knee banging into the table and splashing some of the espresso and foam into the saucer. "Great. Greatness. *Don't* tell me. We'll just be *friends*, dat right?"
"Ray, I just--I thought you were--"
"*What*? What'd'ya think?"
"I just assumed you were--"
Ray noticed she'd stood up and was backing away. sh**, so now she thought she had a violent date on her hands? He held up his hands in surrender and tried to look calm, taking a deep breath and only after a second did it catch up to him what she'd said.
"You thought I was *what*?"
She repeated it again, so softly he almost didn't catch it.
"You thought I was...?"
She nodded, and stood her ground as he stepped around the table and came a little closer to her. Okay, so she didn't think he was dangerous. She just thought he was... *gay*??
"Why the hell'd ya think dat? Dat I was--" sh**, he couldn't even say it. "Not dat I got anything against 'em," he added, wondering why the hell he was apologizing. *She* wasn't gay. Was she? Aw, hell. "Is that it? Are *you*...?"
"What?" She blinked, flushed darker, and he had a moment of pleasure at that. "No. I thought *you*--"
"Yeah, I got dat." He nodded. "So--what--you thought I was--" C'mon, force it out, Kowalski--just say it--"gay--an' askin' you to dinner and you say yeah?"
She swallowed and seemed to consider that. "No, I, I mean there were rumors, but I don't usually listen--"
"Rumors?"
She nodded, repeating herself. He was glad he had her off-balance. "I don't usually listen, but then at dinner--"
"What? What happened at dinner?" sh**, he knew he sounded defensive. He brought his voice down, trying to stay calm. He was calm. It was just one of those misunderstandings, right? She just assumed wrong.
"It's just that-well," she paused and clenched her fingers, then splayed them out against her skirt, smoothing it down, or maybe wiping the sweat off them. "You kept talking about Fraser."
"He's my *friend*--"
"And you said he was your partner--"
"I *said* we used to work together!"
"And you live together."
"It's cheaper in a two-bedroom. He's my best friend and--"
"And you're going to retire together. In Canada."
He opened his mouth to object and realized he was sunk. She was a *lawyer*. Hell, she was a *prosecutor*. Case closed. He reached behind him for the sofa and realized he was too far away from it to sit down again. He really needed to sit down for this.
But she wasn't finished. He could see that--see that she was a lot like Stella, actually, except for the overbite and the wider hips and the Jewish thing. She was a lot like Stella. So it wouldn't've worked out anyway, probably.
*Even if she didn't think you were gay.*
"So, okay, so you thought I was--except I'm not. And you're not. Right?"
"Yes. I mean--"
"So what's the problem?" He shrugged, truly stumped. "I'm not--sh**, I was *married* for--"
"Oscar Wilde was married. With two children."
"You--" he slapped his forehead, running his hand through his hair and shaking his head. "Hold on. Hold on. This isn't about what you *thought*. You don't believe me," he said, softly, looking up and facing her. "You still think it. Because I didn't have any kids you think I'm a fag?" Okay, so there went the "let's make nice" voice he was trying for, but sh**--this was just too much. This was nuts. They were gonna be friends? Well, this sure as hell wasn't buddies.
"Ray, I--I don't know what to--."
"I'm not," he repeated, wondering whether it was worth arguing at this point. But it wasn't like he was never going to see her again. He'd see her in court, at the station...
"I believe you, Ray. I just--"
"What? You just *what*?"
"When you and your *friend* retire... can you honestly say you think you'll be married? Will he?"
"I...." Okay, so he hadn't thought about it in those terms, but yeah, probably, 'course they'd be married. Linda Stein-Kowalski. He laughed and shook his head. Now *that* wasn't looking so likely.
"Ray?"
"Yeah, look, I should be going."
"Ray--I'm sorry, I--"
"'sokay. You just call 'em like you see 'em, lady. I'll do the same."
He walked to the door and she followed, and he turned on the porch and looked at her, studying her, trying to figure out what just happened. She looked upset, worried. She wasn't gloating. Hell, she wasn't anything like Stella.
Maybe he could salvage things. It wasn't her fault she read things wrong. "Linda, look-- I appreciate your bein' honest w' me. We just got our wires crossed or somethin'."
She nodded, and just for the hell of it, he leaned forward and kissed her, once, on the cheek, before she could pull away.
"Goodnight, Ray." Yeah. That's how it was.
"Night," he responded, turning away and running down the steps, hunching his shoulders into the rain that'd gotten harder. By the time he got past the front lawn and into the GTO, he was wet and cold, and he sat back in the seat for a second before turning the ignition key, shaking his head and letting the water spatter the car's interior. What a screw-up. Fraser'd get a real kick out of this.
He headed home, realizing he wasn't going to tell Fraser about any of it.
Last edited by Roman on 20 Dec 2007, 8:19 pm, edited 1 time in total.
20 Dec 2007, 7:32 pm
Roman wrote:
I ran a google search on "I just think we should be friends" and I ran on the followign thread: http://www.squidge.org/dsa/archive/dram ... uming.html Since I am a slow reader, I didn't get a chance to read anything besides the section I am going to quote below (PLEASE READ THE TEXT I QUOTED BELOW, BEFORE CONTINUING READING THIS POST. THE QUOTE BELOW IS A LOT SHORTER THAN THE ACTUAL LINK, AND THIS QUOTE IS THE ONLY THING I WANT TO DISCUSS). So I don't actually know who Frazer was or whether or not the guy in question was really gay or not. However, regardless of that, I think he should have continued to fight to perswade that woman that he was straight. I understand if he was trying to be polite, BUT THE POINT IS THAT HE WASN"T. During most of the conversatoin THE WOMAN was the one who was trying to exit the situation in a polite way, while THE MAN was forcing the confrontation. Then, when she FINALLY admitted that she thought he was gay, he all of a sudden said that he had to go and left. She even followed him out of the door, so NOW he finally got her attention and she WANTED to pursue the conversation; yet he just left. So it makes no sense. If he went on all this length trying to force the confrontation, why didn't he pursue it once she was ready to talk about it?
Well, there is actually a clue in that passage, namely the following passage:
Regarding the first paragraph, I think it is the opposite: if she is a lawyer she will be willing to think logically and TEST HER ASSUMPTIONS. Most NT-s who are NOT lawyers are not willing to test their assumptions and that is the biggest problem: once they reach a conclusion, no amount of logic will help. On the other hand in case of a lawyer, yes it will help.
Now lets move on to the second paragraph. What does he mean she was a lot like Stella so it won't work out anyway? First of all, REGARDLESS OF WHEHTER OR NOT IT WOULD WORK OUT, he has to prove that he is straight to SAVE HIS PRIDE AND REPUTATION. I mean, suppose the cashier in a grocery store thinks you are gay, and it won't work out with that cashier anyway (say that cashier is 70 years old and you are only 20, or even worse your cashier is the same gender as you), now does it mean that it is fine with you that the cashier thinks you are gay? OF COURSE NOT.
And, as far as "it won't have worked out anyway" well, how does he know for sure? He can learn from the mistakes that he made with Stella in order not to repeat them any more. Besided, if he TRIES and it doesn't work out, then he will be able to say "well at least I tried" but here he didn't even try so he will always have that guilt feeling about not trying. Finally, if it "doesn't work out" for some other reason, it is always a lot better than his gayness being the reason. I mean just out of principle. Suppose you are about to go to jail for stealing from store A, which you are NOT guilty of. But you konw that you would of gone to jail anyway for stealing from store B which you ARE guilty of. So are you simply not going to care as to what you are in jail for? Well, I would. If you are in jail for stealing from store B, at least you are treated fairly. But in case of store A you were NOT treated fairly. And THIS is the thing that is most important: not to be treated fairly. So even if this guy was SURE it won't work out anyway, he should have done the best he could to be in a relationship and THEN screw it up for whatever the REAL reason might be (i.e. repeat whatever mistakes he made with Stela). That way at least the point will be made that his gayness is NOT the reason.
Anyway, here is a quote of passage in question:
Well, there is actually a clue in that passage, namely the following passage:
Quote:
He opened his mouth to object and realized he was sunk. She was a *lawyer*. Hell, she was a *prosecutor*. Case closed. He reached behind him for the sofa and realized he was too far away from it to sit down again. He really needed to sit down for this.
But she wasn't finished. He could see that--see that she was a lot like Stella, actually, except for the overbite and the wider hips and the Jewish thing. She was a lot like Stella. So it wouldn't've worked out anyway, probably.
*Even if she didn't think you were gay.*
But she wasn't finished. He could see that--see that she was a lot like Stella, actually, except for the overbite and the wider hips and the Jewish thing. She was a lot like Stella. So it wouldn't've worked out anyway, probably.
*Even if she didn't think you were gay.*
Regarding the first paragraph, I think it is the opposite: if she is a lawyer she will be willing to think logically and TEST HER ASSUMPTIONS. Most NT-s who are NOT lawyers are not willing to test their assumptions and that is the biggest problem: once they reach a conclusion, no amount of logic will help. On the other hand in case of a lawyer, yes it will help.
Now lets move on to the second paragraph. What does he mean she was a lot like Stella so it won't work out anyway? First of all, REGARDLESS OF WHEHTER OR NOT IT WOULD WORK OUT, he has to prove that he is straight to SAVE HIS PRIDE AND REPUTATION. I mean, suppose the cashier in a grocery store thinks you are gay, and it won't work out with that cashier anyway (say that cashier is 70 years old and you are only 20, or even worse your cashier is the same gender as you), now does it mean that it is fine with you that the cashier thinks you are gay? OF COURSE NOT.
And, as far as "it won't have worked out anyway" well, how does he know for sure? He can learn from the mistakes that he made with Stella in order not to repeat them any more. Besided, if he TRIES and it doesn't work out, then he will be able to say "well at least I tried" but here he didn't even try so he will always have that guilt feeling about not trying. Finally, if it "doesn't work out" for some other reason, it is always a lot better than his gayness being the reason. I mean just out of principle. Suppose you are about to go to jail for stealing from store A, which you are NOT guilty of. But you konw that you would of gone to jail anyway for stealing from store B which you ARE guilty of. So are you simply not going to care as to what you are in jail for? Well, I would. If you are in jail for stealing from store B, at least you are treated fairly. But in case of store A you were NOT treated fairly. And THIS is the thing that is most important: not to be treated fairly. So even if this guy was SURE it won't work out anyway, he should have done the best he could to be in a relationship and THEN screw it up for whatever the REAL reason might be (i.e. repeat whatever mistakes he made with Stela). That way at least the point will be made that his gayness is NOT the reason.
Anyway, here is a quote of passage in question:
Quote:
"Ray, I--"
"Yeah?" he asked softly.
"I *would* like to meet Fraser sometime. And Dief, of course."
"Hmm. Yeah, sure." In the soft lamp-light, you could see the rainy night had given her a frizz halo on top of her wavy blond hair. He reached out to touch it but then she did tense and he let his hand fall to the back of the sofa. Not too casual, but not bad. Maybe he shoulda said yes to the sherry? Except he was already a little relaxed and had to drive home. 'Course, if he got lucky, he'd have plenty of time to sober up...
"Ray, I really like you--"
"And I really like you," he agreed, smiling, he was sure, a little stupidly. It'd been too long. The last girl--the one who didn't watch TV--had been four months ago. And they hadn't gotten any farther than a few heavy kisses in the GTO, like a couple of teenagers or something.
"But--Ray, I--I mean, I just want to say that I understand."
"You do?" he asked, watching the way her cheeks were pinking up. Not as bright as Fraser got when he was embarrassed.
"Yes," she sounded firmer that time, like she'd made a decision.
"So whattaya understand, Linda?" He liked saying her name. Linda Stein. Linda meant pretty, didn't it? Fraser'd know. Linda Kowalski. Nah. Probably Linda Stein-Kowalski. He reached out again and this time fingered the little gold star at her collar, tracing the thin chain up along her neck, placing his finger along her pulse, then following the chain down again, to where it dipped slightly at the top of her cleavage. Her skin was damp there and smooth, and she gasped as his finger brushed against her skin, gently, and then he drew back, watching her brown eyes go wider.
"I thought--"
He leaned forward just a little, and she didn't back away, and then he was reaching up again, letting his hand cup the back of her head, not really pulling her. He edged closer on the sofa, and then their mouths met and he pressed against her, waiting for her lips to open. He could already feel himself starting to get hard. And she would be so soft and warm against him. He wondered if she dyed her hair, and what color it really was....
But she pulled back.
"You're not--"
"What?"
"I thought for sure..." And now Linda was frowning, one hand coming up to touch her mouth where her lipstick was a little smudged, the shine taken off it, probably rubbed onto him. He licked his lips and tasted the waxy gloss on his lower lip. He'd even missed that.
"Ray, I don't think this--"
"Okay," he agreed, easy--not wanting to push. Well, he wanted to push, but he wouldn't. Never did. He'd waited years to get Stella into bed. He wasn't in a hurry.
"Look, I'll call you."
"Isn't dat my line?" he asked, trying to keep it light.
"Ray..." she sighed.
sh**. Why did this sound so much like a brush-off? And she hadn't, he realized, really responded to the kiss. She hadn't opened her mouth, except to tell him to leave. sh**. "You really going to call?" God, that sounded pitiful. What's she gonna say, no?
"Ray, I just think we should be friends."
"Friends? Sure. Greatness. But--"
"I like you, Ray. Really." Her cheeks were starting to pink up again.
"sh**. You *like* me? So what'd I do?"
"Nothing!"
"So what's with friends all of a sudden?"
"You--it's not you, it's--"
He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the wood table, at the cold espresso. "Riiight. C'mon, 'least be straight w't me. What--was it the restaurant? I pick the wrong date movie? What?'
"Ray, Ray--" and then she had that tone of voice, exactly that tone of voice--it was familiar, but he couldn't place it, couldn't figure out why it made him suddenly so angry.
"Look, I haven't done this much since the divorce." And suddenly he remembered being sixteen and in the pushed down backseat of the car and apologizing to Stella, 'cause he hadn't done it before, and she was blushing and looking at the floor of the car, just like this, exactly like this, and he'd wanted to sink into the floorboards and never come out again....
"Ray, it's--"
He stood up, his knee banging into the table and splashing some of the espresso and foam into the saucer. "Great. Greatness. *Don't* tell me. We'll just be *friends*, dat right?"
"Ray, I just--I thought you were--"
"*What*? What'd'ya think?"
"I just assumed you were--"
Ray noticed she'd stood up and was backing away. sh**, so now she thought she had a violent date on her hands? He held up his hands in surrender and tried to look calm, taking a deep breath and only after a second did it catch up to him what she'd said.
"You thought I was *what*?"
She repeated it again, so softly he almost didn't catch it.
"You thought I was...?"
She nodded, and stood her ground as he stepped around the table and came a little closer to her. Okay, so she didn't think he was dangerous. She just thought he was... *gay*??
"Why the hell'd ya think dat? Dat I was--" sh**, he couldn't even say it. "Not dat I got anything against 'em," he added, wondering why the hell he was apologizing. *She* wasn't gay. Was she? Aw, hell. "Is that it? Are *you*...?"
"What?" She blinked, flushed darker, and he had a moment of pleasure at that. "No. I thought *you*--"
"Yeah, I got dat." He nodded. "So--what--you thought I was--" C'mon, force it out, Kowalski--just say it--"gay--an' askin' you to dinner and you say yeah?"
She swallowed and seemed to consider that. "No, I, I mean there were rumors, but I don't usually listen--"
"Rumors?"
She nodded, repeating herself. He was glad he had her off-balance. "I don't usually listen, but then at dinner--"
"What? What happened at dinner?" sh**, he knew he sounded defensive. He brought his voice down, trying to stay calm. He was calm. It was just one of those misunderstandings, right? She just assumed wrong.
"It's just that-well," she paused and clenched her fingers, then splayed them out against her skirt, smoothing it down, or maybe wiping the sweat off them. "You kept talking about Fraser."
"He's my *friend*--"
"And you said he was your partner--"
"I *said* we used to work together!"
"And you live together."
"It's cheaper in a two-bedroom. He's my best friend and--"
"And you're going to retire together. In Canada."
He opened his mouth to object and realized he was sunk. She was a *lawyer*. Hell, she was a *prosecutor*. Case closed. He reached behind him for the sofa and realized he was too far away from it to sit down again. He really needed to sit down for this.
But she wasn't finished. He could see that--see that she was a lot like Stella, actually, except for the overbite and the wider hips and the Jewish thing. She was a lot like Stella. So it wouldn't've worked out anyway, probably.
*Even if she didn't think you were gay.*
"So, okay, so you thought I was--except I'm not. And you're not. Right?"
"Yes. I mean--"
"So what's the problem?" He shrugged, truly stumped. "I'm not--sh**, I was *married* for--"
"Oscar Wilde was married. With two children."
"You--" he slapped his forehead, running his hand through his hair and shaking his head. "Hold on. Hold on. This isn't about what you *thought*. You don't believe me," he said, softly, looking up and facing her. "You still think it. Because I didn't have any kids you think I'm a fag?" Okay, so there went the "let's make nice" voice he was trying for, but sh**--this was just too much. This was nuts. They were gonna be friends? Well, this sure as hell wasn't buddies.
"Ray, I--I don't know what to--."
"I'm not," he repeated, wondering whether it was worth arguing at this point. But it wasn't like he was never going to see her again. He'd see her in court, at the station...
"I believe you, Ray. I just--"
"What? You just *what*?"
"When you and your *friend* retire... can you honestly say you think you'll be married? Will he?"
"I...." Okay, so he hadn't thought about it in those terms, but yeah, probably, 'course they'd be married. Linda Stein-Kowalski. He laughed and shook his head. Now *that* wasn't looking so likely.
"Ray?"
"Yeah, look, I should be going."
"Ray--I'm sorry, I--"
"'sokay. You just call 'em like you see 'em, lady. I'll do the same."
He walked to the door and she followed, and he turned on the porch and looked at her, studying her, trying to figure out what just happened. She looked upset, worried. She wasn't gloating. Hell, she wasn't anything like Stella.
Maybe he could salvage things. It wasn't her fault she read things wrong. "Linda, look-- I appreciate your bein' honest w' me. We just got our wires crossed or somethin'."
She nodded, and just for the hell of it, he leaned forward and kissed her, once, on the cheek, before she could pull away.
"Goodnight, Ray." Yeah. That's how it was.
"Night," he responded, turning away and running down the steps, hunching his shoulders into the rain that'd gotten harder. By the time he got past the front lawn and into the GTO, he was wet and cold, and he sat back in the seat for a second before turning the ignition key, shaking his head and letting the water spatter the car's interior. What a screw-up. Fraser'd get a real kick out of this.
He headed home, realizing he wasn't going to tell Fraser about any of it.
"Yeah?" he asked softly.
"I *would* like to meet Fraser sometime. And Dief, of course."
"Hmm. Yeah, sure." In the soft lamp-light, you could see the rainy night had given her a frizz halo on top of her wavy blond hair. He reached out to touch it but then she did tense and he let his hand fall to the back of the sofa. Not too casual, but not bad. Maybe he shoulda said yes to the sherry? Except he was already a little relaxed and had to drive home. 'Course, if he got lucky, he'd have plenty of time to sober up...
"Ray, I really like you--"
"And I really like you," he agreed, smiling, he was sure, a little stupidly. It'd been too long. The last girl--the one who didn't watch TV--had been four months ago. And they hadn't gotten any farther than a few heavy kisses in the GTO, like a couple of teenagers or something.
"But--Ray, I--I mean, I just want to say that I understand."
"You do?" he asked, watching the way her cheeks were pinking up. Not as bright as Fraser got when he was embarrassed.
"Yes," she sounded firmer that time, like she'd made a decision.
"So whattaya understand, Linda?" He liked saying her name. Linda Stein. Linda meant pretty, didn't it? Fraser'd know. Linda Kowalski. Nah. Probably Linda Stein-Kowalski. He reached out again and this time fingered the little gold star at her collar, tracing the thin chain up along her neck, placing his finger along her pulse, then following the chain down again, to where it dipped slightly at the top of her cleavage. Her skin was damp there and smooth, and she gasped as his finger brushed against her skin, gently, and then he drew back, watching her brown eyes go wider.
"I thought--"
He leaned forward just a little, and she didn't back away, and then he was reaching up again, letting his hand cup the back of her head, not really pulling her. He edged closer on the sofa, and then their mouths met and he pressed against her, waiting for her lips to open. He could already feel himself starting to get hard. And she would be so soft and warm against him. He wondered if she dyed her hair, and what color it really was....
But she pulled back.
"You're not--"
"What?"
"I thought for sure..." And now Linda was frowning, one hand coming up to touch her mouth where her lipstick was a little smudged, the shine taken off it, probably rubbed onto him. He licked his lips and tasted the waxy gloss on his lower lip. He'd even missed that.
"Ray, I don't think this--"
"Okay," he agreed, easy--not wanting to push. Well, he wanted to push, but he wouldn't. Never did. He'd waited years to get Stella into bed. He wasn't in a hurry.
"Look, I'll call you."
"Isn't dat my line?" he asked, trying to keep it light.
"Ray..." she sighed.
sh**. Why did this sound so much like a brush-off? And she hadn't, he realized, really responded to the kiss. She hadn't opened her mouth, except to tell him to leave. sh**. "You really going to call?" God, that sounded pitiful. What's she gonna say, no?
"Ray, I just think we should be friends."
"Friends? Sure. Greatness. But--"
"I like you, Ray. Really." Her cheeks were starting to pink up again.
"sh**. You *like* me? So what'd I do?"
"Nothing!"
"So what's with friends all of a sudden?"
"You--it's not you, it's--"
He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the wood table, at the cold espresso. "Riiight. C'mon, 'least be straight w't me. What--was it the restaurant? I pick the wrong date movie? What?'
"Ray, Ray--" and then she had that tone of voice, exactly that tone of voice--it was familiar, but he couldn't place it, couldn't figure out why it made him suddenly so angry.
"Look, I haven't done this much since the divorce." And suddenly he remembered being sixteen and in the pushed down backseat of the car and apologizing to Stella, 'cause he hadn't done it before, and she was blushing and looking at the floor of the car, just like this, exactly like this, and he'd wanted to sink into the floorboards and never come out again....
"Ray, it's--"
He stood up, his knee banging into the table and splashing some of the espresso and foam into the saucer. "Great. Greatness. *Don't* tell me. We'll just be *friends*, dat right?"
"Ray, I just--I thought you were--"
"*What*? What'd'ya think?"
"I just assumed you were--"
Ray noticed she'd stood up and was backing away. sh**, so now she thought she had a violent date on her hands? He held up his hands in surrender and tried to look calm, taking a deep breath and only after a second did it catch up to him what she'd said.
"You thought I was *what*?"
She repeated it again, so softly he almost didn't catch it.
"You thought I was...?"
She nodded, and stood her ground as he stepped around the table and came a little closer to her. Okay, so she didn't think he was dangerous. She just thought he was... *gay*??
"Why the hell'd ya think dat? Dat I was--" sh**, he couldn't even say it. "Not dat I got anything against 'em," he added, wondering why the hell he was apologizing. *She* wasn't gay. Was she? Aw, hell. "Is that it? Are *you*...?"
"What?" She blinked, flushed darker, and he had a moment of pleasure at that. "No. I thought *you*--"
"Yeah, I got dat." He nodded. "So--what--you thought I was--" C'mon, force it out, Kowalski--just say it--"gay--an' askin' you to dinner and you say yeah?"
She swallowed and seemed to consider that. "No, I, I mean there were rumors, but I don't usually listen--"
"Rumors?"
She nodded, repeating herself. He was glad he had her off-balance. "I don't usually listen, but then at dinner--"
"What? What happened at dinner?" sh**, he knew he sounded defensive. He brought his voice down, trying to stay calm. He was calm. It was just one of those misunderstandings, right? She just assumed wrong.
"It's just that-well," she paused and clenched her fingers, then splayed them out against her skirt, smoothing it down, or maybe wiping the sweat off them. "You kept talking about Fraser."
"He's my *friend*--"
"And you said he was your partner--"
"I *said* we used to work together!"
"And you live together."
"It's cheaper in a two-bedroom. He's my best friend and--"
"And you're going to retire together. In Canada."
He opened his mouth to object and realized he was sunk. She was a *lawyer*. Hell, she was a *prosecutor*. Case closed. He reached behind him for the sofa and realized he was too far away from it to sit down again. He really needed to sit down for this.
But she wasn't finished. He could see that--see that she was a lot like Stella, actually, except for the overbite and the wider hips and the Jewish thing. She was a lot like Stella. So it wouldn't've worked out anyway, probably.
*Even if she didn't think you were gay.*
"So, okay, so you thought I was--except I'm not. And you're not. Right?"
"Yes. I mean--"
"So what's the problem?" He shrugged, truly stumped. "I'm not--sh**, I was *married* for--"
"Oscar Wilde was married. With two children."
"You--" he slapped his forehead, running his hand through his hair and shaking his head. "Hold on. Hold on. This isn't about what you *thought*. You don't believe me," he said, softly, looking up and facing her. "You still think it. Because I didn't have any kids you think I'm a fag?" Okay, so there went the "let's make nice" voice he was trying for, but sh**--this was just too much. This was nuts. They were gonna be friends? Well, this sure as hell wasn't buddies.
"Ray, I--I don't know what to--."
"I'm not," he repeated, wondering whether it was worth arguing at this point. But it wasn't like he was never going to see her again. He'd see her in court, at the station...
"I believe you, Ray. I just--"
"What? You just *what*?"
"When you and your *friend* retire... can you honestly say you think you'll be married? Will he?"
"I...." Okay, so he hadn't thought about it in those terms, but yeah, probably, 'course they'd be married. Linda Stein-Kowalski. He laughed and shook his head. Now *that* wasn't looking so likely.
"Ray?"
"Yeah, look, I should be going."
"Ray--I'm sorry, I--"
"'sokay. You just call 'em like you see 'em, lady. I'll do the same."
He walked to the door and she followed, and he turned on the porch and looked at her, studying her, trying to figure out what just happened. She looked upset, worried. She wasn't gloating. Hell, she wasn't anything like Stella.
Maybe he could salvage things. It wasn't her fault she read things wrong. "Linda, look-- I appreciate your bein' honest w' me. We just got our wires crossed or somethin'."
She nodded, and just for the hell of it, he leaned forward and kissed her, once, on the cheek, before she could pull away.
"Goodnight, Ray." Yeah. That's how it was.
"Night," he responded, turning away and running down the steps, hunching his shoulders into the rain that'd gotten harder. By the time he got past the front lawn and into the GTO, he was wet and cold, and he sat back in the seat for a second before turning the ignition key, shaking his head and letting the water spatter the car's interior. What a screw-up. Fraser'd get a real kick out of this.
He headed home, realizing he wasn't going to tell Fraser about any of it.
I'm sorry I dissagree with you only because I don't view being gay as a bad thing I'm 100% straight but if someone thinks I'm gay its not really going to hurt my pride or reputation. I work at a retail store and I had a customer ask me if I'm on the down-low and I said no currently I have a girlfriend. He responded with you sure you weren't mad or anything? and I said "well I just don't feel being gay is a bad thing if I was gay I'd say I was gay but I'm not and I have respect for that group of people regardless of their sexual orientation." If I'm gay doesn't mean I shouldn't have pride for myself it means that I have a different sexual orientation then most. If that person doesn't matter why would I care if he thinks I'm gay. If I fight it he will think that his assumption is correct that being gay is a bad thing which it isn't as long as its not a girl I'm after I don't see the point and I wouldn't be offended if she assumed such.
Last edited by Abangyarudo on 20 Dec 2007, 10:06 pm, edited 1 time in total.
21 Dec 2007, 7:51 pm
Abangyarudo wrote:
I'm sorry I dissagree with you only because I don't view being gay as a bad thing I'm 100% straight but if someone thinks I'm gay its not really going to hurt my pride or reputation. I work at a retail store and I had a customer ask me if I'm on the down-low and I said no currently I have a girlfriend. He responded with you sure you weren't mad or anything? and I said "well I just don't feel being gay is a bad thing if I was gay I'd say I was gay but I'm not and I have respect for that group of people regardless of their sexual orientation." If I'm gay doesn't mean I shouldn't have pride for myself it means that I have a different sexual orientation then most. If that person doesn't matter why would I care if he thinks I'm gay. If I fight it he will think that his assumption is correct that being gay is a bad thing which it isn't as long as its not a girl I'm after I don't see the point and I wouldn't be offended if she assumed such.
I happened to disagree with you, but I won't go off that tangent as this would get us away from the topic of the thread. The point I would like to make is this: regardless as to whether I am right or you are right, the character of the play clearly was having my mindset and not yours. If you read the first half of the argument, FOR HIM it WAS important to prove that he was straight. So whether he was right or wrong, what bothers me the most is that he was INCONSISTENT. After having invested so much effort in trying to get her to talk about the topic, he fails to pursue the confrontation once he finally succeeded in getting her attention. This INCONSISTENCY of the main character is what bothers me the most.
22 Dec 2007, 4:34 pm
sounds to me like (and My assumptions are always 60% wrong..
She wanted some male companionship with no romantic strings attached.
She thought he was 'gay', ergo, fun to do things with, but no scary 'attachments' to get in the way.
She finds he's not gay, and she wasn't wanting to start a relationship
She's backpeddaling franticly, as she realized she 'read' him the wrong way.
Some women (not sure how many) like to party with gay men, for various reasons (common interests, gay men are seen as more compassionate, insightful to emotions, etc).
I've known one or two guys who were thought 'gay' who got into some really steamy situations until the women realized that all that 'promise' might be accepted.
Actually, the missus told me that all the people in her circle thought I was gay because I don't care for sports, hunting, or hard drinking...
23 Dec 2007, 5:37 am
Maybe he just got tired of her inane BS, I know I'm consistently tired of my mother's.
_________________
"They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat, it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat." - Terry Bisson
29 Dec 2007, 4:24 am
Deus_ex_machina wrote:
Maybe he just got tired of her inane BS, I know I'm consistently tired of my mother's.
And this woman sure went on with a lot of inane stuff. I think he could have found somebody more sensible.
_________________
Break out you Western girls,
Someday soon you're gonna rule the world.
Break out you Western girls,
Hold your heads up high.
"Western Girls" - Dragon
03 Jan 2008, 2:43 am
Pandora wrote:
Deus_ex_machina wrote:
Maybe he just got tired of her inane BS, I know I'm consistently tired of my mother's.
And this woman sure went on with a lot of inane stuff. I think he could have found somebody more sensible.Not if he's an Aspie, if that's case he'd just find disappointment.
_________________
"They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat, it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat." - Terry Bisson
03 Jan 2008, 9:22 am
Deus_ex_machina wrote:
Pandora wrote:
Deus_ex_machina wrote:
Maybe he just got tired of her inane BS, I know I'm consistently tired of my mother's.
And this woman sure went on with a lot of inane stuff. I think he could have found somebody more sensible.Not if he's an Aspie, if that's case he'd just find disappointment.
_________________
Break out you Western girls,
Someday soon you're gonna rule the world.
Break out you Western girls,
Hold your heads up high.
"Western Girls" - Dragon
06 Jan 2008, 12:34 pm
Pandora wrote:
Deus_ex_machina wrote:
Pandora wrote:
Deus_ex_machina wrote:
Maybe he just got tired of her inane BS, I know I'm consistently tired of my mother's.
And this woman sure went on with a lot of inane stuff. I think he could have found somebody more sensible.Not if he's an Aspie, if that's case he'd just find disappointment.
Moot points are the best kind of points.
_________________
"They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat, it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat." - Terry Bisson
07 Jan 2008, 4:12 pm
Pandora wrote:
Deus_ex_machina wrote:
Pandora wrote:
Deus_ex_machina wrote:
Maybe he just got tired of her inane BS, I know I'm consistently tired of my mother's.
And this woman sure went on with a lot of inane stuff. I think he could have found somebody more sensible.Not if he's an Aspie, if that's case he'd just find disappointment.
And the point is that he was disappointed too soon. At the end of the passage she gave him a REALLY good opportunity to defend himself by asking him whether or not he plans to get married after retirenment, and one word YES could have solved the whole problem. So I can't get why didn't he say yes.
Now of course he was disappointed not THEN but 2 minutes before then, so the real issue is that when ppl get disappointed tehir brain stops working so that he simply wasn't there to HEAR that he had a new chance to explain himself.
