Indecent proposal

Those old acquaintances. Sitting in a café, sipping miniature espresso and cutting through an enormous cake. Haven’t seen her in ages; did not long to, although I don’t mind the company. For the sake of old times.

Trying my best charming me, not to impress her, there’s no need, but perhaps to practice. I am so at ease:

— You know, maybe it’s good to have somebody to hang out with occasionally. To get out of one’s bubble.

— I can look after you if you want, — she quips, completely blowing the innuendo. Somehow I expected that.

I’m laughing it off, clumsily avoiding hurting her, as she means it more seriously than it sounds. I am not interested. Never have been.

Those who were on the radar once are long gone. We crossed paths, going from giggles to awkwardness and back, or vice versa, and then splitting for good. They reside in my address book and in the darkest corners of my head. And I still love sending and getting random Christmas and birthday messages, somehow to demonstrate an imaginary connection never really disappears.

I’m laughing it off.

That went smoothly, me thinks.