The Catch

Rory sat in his swiveling chair behind his cubicle at his fortuitous office job. When asked at parties or random encounters by new acquaintances what he did, he would say he staved off depression by pushing paper. They would laugh politely and then ask him, no really, what did his company do, and Rory would answer that his company managed low-income housing developments throughout the city. He lacked the ability to present an opinion on whether or not he liked the work, which was why he said he staved off depression by pushing paper.
He had nothing in his life to look forward to anymore, nothing except for Ireena, who by this point had become such a cherished object to him that he would only focus on such a point in the future which was to include seeing her. The possibility of finally winning her over alone moved him. He would daydream endlessly about the many different ways they could find themselves together. There was first their date, which was not so much a date as a dinner between a group of friends. There was their absinthe drinking, which did not bring them together, but rather pulled them apart over their fear and acceptance of evil. There was the promise of the Halloween party she said she would invite him to. She would have to call him today. He was afraid she wouldn’t call, and that he might be forced to call her, and that she might not pick up, or ever call him back. He feared this, but he reminded himself that despite her cold exterior, she had actually smiled at him at moments, and she had not ever seriously denounced him, and she had let him kiss her as a gentleman might have in some bygone era. If he had known of her dream the night prior, he might be filled with a sweet wistfulness and an anticipation of her call to come, but since he had his doubts, his mood ranged from jubilant to paranoid, and this was not helpful for his professional career.
“Working hard?” Rory’s colleague Sylvia chimed in.
“It’s hard work,” he answered, “But I am getting it done.”
“Have you taken lunch yet?” she asked
“Not by a long shot,” he answered
“Well, me neither. Do you want to go to Cosi with me?” Sylvia questioned.
“Sure, I guess.” Leaving their office, they each grabbed their coats and scarves. A sharp chill had moved into the city that day. Perhaps there was no other week in the city’s history when one day lying on a beach was possible and another day slipping on a puddle of ice was possible.
They walked into Cosi, placed their orders, and picked a table in the corner at which to sit. As they were waiting for their food to be brought out, Sylvia began the conversation with the following question:
“What are you looking for?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, are you single?”
“Yeah.”
“So you have to be looking for something. What are you looking for?”
“Just because I’m single doesn’t necessarily mean I’m looking for anything.”
“Okay well then what are you waiting for?”
“Why would I be waiting for anything?”
“I don’t know.”
“What are you getting at, Sylvia?”
“I just don’t see why a guy like you would be single, and not looking for anything, and not waiting for anything.”
“Maybe I’m just secure in being free of pursuits.”
Sylvia wrinkled her forehead.
“You have a strange way of putting things.”
“I know,” Rory said as their food was dropped at their table, “It helps me be extremely clear and direct while still basically remaining an anomaly.”
“Why are you an anomaly?”
“I don’t know how I got this far being the way I am.” Rory said
“But what is the way you are?”
“Nervous,” Rory said, “Sick, naïve.”
“Oh come on, you have to be more positive about yourself,” Sylvia said, “Let’s try it again. What is the way you are?”
“Poetic,” Rory said, “Perfectionist, enthusiastic.”
“Wow, you should write slogans!” Sylvia replied
“So I should work in advertising?”
“You might be really good at that.”
“I feel like advertising people are depressingly cynical.” Rory said.
“Whatever, I just don’t see why you think you’re an anomaly, that’s all I’m saying,” Sylvia said.
“Do you want me to be more clear and direct about why I think I’m an anomaly?” Rory asked.
“Please.” Sylvia said, only in order to say it.
“Nobody will ever understand me because I will refuse to ever open up to anybody.” Rory said.
“But you’re opening up to me.” Sylvia said.
“Girls are the only ones that want you to open up,” Rory said.
“What’s your point?”
“I refuse to open myself up to anybody, but girls are the only ones that require it.”
“I really can’t follow you,” Sylvia intoned.
“Alright, well I’ll tell you, I really like this girl Ireena but I’m worried I haven’t followed the correct procedure.”
“Have you told her you like her?” Sylvia murmured.
“Yes.”
“Did she kiss you?”
“She let me kiss her on the cheek.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t know if I told her I liked her the right way.”
“Maybe she couldn’t tell if she liked you or not.”
“Why wouldn’t she like me?”
“I don’t know!”
“I don’t get it. It’s all standards.”
They had finished eating by this point.