When I saw her standing there at Brentano's Bookstore, I was too diffident to be seen by her before I could ruminate my intent. I had done rash things before and was cognizant of this being done on the brink. I felt inadequate when I saw her and darted over to one side of the store unseen. I whiled away a few moments overthinking and dissembled to browse as I tried to manufacture an opening line asking her to help me find my dictionary. She pointed me in the right direction so detachedly that I thought I was getting the brush-off. She didn't impress me as cordial, giving me this "walk-in-customer" treatment.
I felt obtuse, sensing aggressive female "intellectual vibes." I could have found it myself but was only demanding nobles oblige to kindle something. When I came back a minute later and repined about this certain dictionary I had my heart set on, she informed me how to buy one by cross-referencing.
We volley-balled "neutral isms" between us momentarily and I had to consummate the conversation. I went back ill-at-ease and didn't know myself what I was going to do; I had come to buy the Webster's Third New International and faltered at any other. Later I did find what I wanted and town and this proved it. She was taken aback by the price of it and she might have thought I was trying to impress her. I had to struggle to hold the conversation together and decided to take out the "billet-doux" I composed. She read it hurriedly and couldn't possibly have fathomed it. I briefed her of my novice-ship; she dittoed what my prof said about my bent for playing with words. The intervening customers impeded my train of thought keeping me from eliciting excitedly a response.
When she asked me to leave at closing, I tried to stay and she adroitly turned me down with the pretext of going to bed early. If she was blunt, it was not enough to extinguish my male ego; I reaffirmed the prior agreement to date. Bidding adieu with an inclining aggregation left the door au contraire to my diffident "entree a la naivete."
We volley-balled "neutral isms" between us momentarily and I had to consummate the conversation. I went back ill-at-ease and didn't know myself what I was going to do; I had come to buy the Webster's Third New International and faltered at any other. Later I did find what I wanted and town and this proved it. She was taken aback by the price of it and she might have thought I was trying to impress her. I had to struggle to hold the conversation together and decided to take out the "billet-doux" I composed. She read it hurriedly and couldn't possibly have fathomed it. I briefed her of my novice-ship; she dittoed what my prof said about my bent for playing with words. The intervening customers impeded my train of thought keeping me from eliciting excitedly a response.
When she asked me to leave at closing, I tried to stay and she adroitly turned me down with the pretext of going to bed early. If she was blunt, it was not enough to extinguish my male ego; I reaffirmed the prior agreement to date. Bidding adieu with an inclining aggregation left the door au contraire to my diffident "entree a la naivete."
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