When Has That Ever Stopped Me? (11/20/08 Thursday)

I engaged Julie in short conversation a couple times yesterday, about Robert Carlyle being on 24; and if she had A Fine Romance and, if so, could I borrow it (yes and yes). Though these topics were designed as a chance to talk to her, they were not implemented as a hopeful lover to a hoped-for one, but as a coworker engaging another in subjects of mutual interest. Sounds clinical, I know, but once I remove the emotional component, the pretense of hope for romance, I can talk to her as she would prefer to be spoken to at work. Yes, if this were a game--and I won't admit that--then I'm playing by Julie's rules. A compromise--usually a dirty word in my vocabulary, but a component of compassion. Do I want to know Julie? Do I want to understand her "theory"? Then I have to try it on for size, walk the proverbial mile in the proverbial shoes. I get an hour on the desk with Julie tonight, and I'm already lining up topics of conversation. But I'm not worrying (too much) about what she might think I'm trying to accomplish with them. I want to do only two things besides keep her talking to me: look at her when speaking to her, and use her statements to fuel the conversation. Both of these tasks I consider difficult and crucial; if my voice is not directed at her, she may not be willing to follow; and I musn't be so intent on my own shopping list of questions to probe her responses and take them to the next depth--she will be willing to talk if I am able to listen. Am I ready?

*****

Tomorrow, Angie and I are going to Whole Foods for lunch. I invited myself, on the pretense of riding in her car, a Bimmer. Ulteriorly, I wanted to talk about Julie. A risky move, as I'm not of sure of her trustworthiness as a secret-keeper. But I know I have her sympathy, and--better yet--she often lunches with Julie, so I may shamelessly pump her for information. Or not. Julie wants to come along, according to Angie, and will try to have her lunch hour moved to noon to accommodate it. Julie, who always goes to lunch at one on day shifts in order to shorten her day, wants to give that up for a ride to Whole Foods, which, of course, she can do on her own at one. She didn't do that last week. Am I the draw? I don't don't don't want to flatter myself with that, but I had to ask Angie, "Does Julie know I'm coming?" "Oh, yeah,", she said. It's irony time once again, folks: Here I am, getting a handle, finally, on scaling back my hopes, and here Julie goes winding me up again--sorry, catalysing my self-windup. I can't let it happen. (The windup, that is; you think I don't want her to come with us?)

*****

The hour was not what I'd hoped. I engaged Julie as often as patrons allowed, but that wasn't for any good block of time, and I probably came close to barking at a few of them. I was entirely unsuccessful at making eye contact as I spoke, but she listened and responded. I also missed a opportunities to probe for elaboration on some things she said. I'm glad to be aware enough to critique my performance without self-flagellation. I may have made little progress, but having made even the little I did is cause for encouragement, not scolding.

Hinckley believes Julie has thawed considerably this week around me. I believe so, too. Maybe it's because I have, as well--at least it's a likely contributing factor. I feel I have to keep at her to keep her open to my presence, yet, of course, I don't want to push her. But I have to keep any strategy simple and general: talk to her without expectation, and with no more pretense than getting to know her, which is hardly a pretense of conversation with someone that interests one. Getting to know her is what I want to do.

I don't think Julie will be coming to Whole Foods with Angie and me. I think Julie made an idle jest about changing her lunch hour tomorrow, because a peek at the schedule showed no change. Well, I guess I"ll tell Angie about Julie, after all. I hope I know what I'm doing.