I will never understand men.
A year ago I was in a hockey playoff pool. I got in this pool via a flyer that was dropped off in my apartment mailbox. All I had to do was fill in my first round predictions, my e-mail address, and my apartment number. I did that and dropped the sheet off with my ten dollars at apartment 702. No one was home so I left the form by the door and kept the cash. A few days later a guy showed up at my door to collect the cash. We’ll refer to him from now on as, The Neighbour. He was a good-looking guy who appeared to be around my age. He had caught me just as I was heading out, so I pretty much threw my cash at him and went on my way. Most of our communication was done via e-mails. At one point our e-mails started to verge towards flirtatious, but then I started randomly seeing someone and opted out of the banter. The playoffs ended and so did our communication.
I saw him one other time in the impending months before my vacancy from the building. He was doing laundry. I was in a rush, again. We chatted – about nothing noteworthy – as we rode the elevator. I took off as quickly as the opening doors would let me. The only thing of poignancy was that I distinctly remember thinking, ‘he’s more attractive than I remember.’
Fast-forward to a couple days ago. I get an e-mail from him. Predictably, it’s a mass e-mail about the 2011 Playoff Pool. Last night I e-mailed him back to explain that I was no longer in the building but would still be interested in playing.
And so it begins.
His response came at 7:47 this morning. We have been e-mailing back and forth ever since. On numerous occasions the “conversation” could have easily stopped, but it always continued – and for the most part it was he who was keeping it going. At first I wasn’t really thinking anything of it, but after the fourth exchange I started to realize that we were now e-mailing purposefully rather than cordially.
And so begins flirty banter.
It was definitely flirty fucking banter. Wasn’t it? With e-mails exchanged over the entire workday it sure seemed like flirting to me.
The last message I sent was a funny observation about the building we both know so well. It simultaneously referenced the fact that I am single (in a very subtle way). The response could have been any number of things. His options were limitless. The world was literally his oyster. He could have gone a million directions with it that would have either kept the conversation going or led to an actual in person conversation.
His response,
“lol”
Seriously? lol? WTF?
