French Horse Calls and Other Quandaries

Many of you have been asking about Frenchie. "He seemed so good!" you scold, "What's wrong with you? Why'd you let him go???" I think the answer to that question, when I really look at it, can be summed up in one word. Well one sound, really: Neigh.

I keep replaying that second date in my head, and I think I've isolated the exact moment that might have been the beginning of the end. We were at the comedy club, watching an improv battle. Each team would perform, and the audience was required to rate them on a scale of 1-5. This rating was indicated by applause.

After one specific skit, the emcee came up to learn our rating. "Was it a one???" he prompted, and was met with dead silence. "Was it a two???" - again, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. "Was it a three???" - silence. Silence, that is, but for the voice of my date... neighing. It was more of a whinny, really, but definitely a horse imitation, and definitely all shades of awkward. I couldn't look at him. I couldn't really even make sense of what had just happened. Who neighs? Why would you even do that??

My friends have since asked me, in an attempt to explain the neigh, if the subject matter of the skit was perhaps horse-related. It's possible. I know there was one skit that was supposed to be about horses, but it kind of went in another direction. Regardless, the neigh was the first moment where I found Frenchie unattractive. In retrospect, I truly do believe it was all downhill from there.

So why do I bring him up again? That date was weeks ago, and I haven't heard from him since. I figured he must have picked up on my slight change in tone and took it as a sign that I should no longer be pursued. Besides, he moved to Dryden two days later, and it's completely understandable that he might not want to keep up via email all through the summer.

All of this reasoning was so solid, you can imagine my surprise when I checked my email this morning to find a little something from Dryden. That's right, Frenchie has emailed me. Nothing extravagant, just two questions:

1) How are you doing?
2) Are you still eating one banana per day?

I've gotta hand it to him - the man knows what he's doing. If he had sent me a three-pager, as he was once accustomed to doing, I probably would have freaked out. But this? This is smooth and non-threatening. This is artful.

So now what do I do? The man's away until October. Do I really want to keep in contact with him all summer, not having any idea whether or not I'm actually attracted to him?

Oh, this would be so much simpler if he'd just left me with the neigh...