Friday, September 7, 2012

Making the wrong choice

As the sun was setting at the Greek Theater, a few people started dancing in the aisles to their favorite Eurythmics song. Then Annie Lennox belted out “Would I Lie to You,” and the entire crowd jumped to its feet, rocking out to the music in wild abandon. James sprang from his seat and started dancing too. He grabbed my hands, pulled me out of my seat and twirled me right there in the aisle. I started moving to the music but felt silly and self-conscious. All of a sudden I flashed on Bobby’s face standing in his bathrobe waving to me, saying “later.”
“I’ll be right back,” I motioned to the bathroom over the loud music. Annie sang the words “Now would I say something that wasn’t true,” as I walked quickly, pulling the slip of paper out of my purse with Bobby's phone number. I stood for a while at the phone booth (this was before cell phones), contemplating making the call. I felt frozen with indecision until a woman bumped into me as she dashed into the ladies room. 
Slowly, I dialed Bobby's number. He answered right away but could barely hear me over the music. We made plans to get together the next day. When I hung up the phone, I immediately felt a sense of relief. 
James phoned me several times after our big date but I never returned any of his calls. I couldn’t risk falling in love with someone like him and then being abandoned. But Bobby, well, he’d never leave someone like me. I already knew that he was a troubled soul. Certainly, I could help him and then he would be forever indebted to me, declaring his undying love to the woman who stood by his side. 
We started dating, if you could call it that. Whatever it was, I felt totally comfortable. There was no pressure hanging out with Bobby. Our so called dates were simple. He joined me on walks with Blondie, he came over for dinner, we met at a local bar for drinks (and I picked up the bill). The third time I saw Bobby; he brought over a box of his things including some clothes, his guitar, even his toothbrush.
“Are you moving in with me?” I asked.
“Not really,” he said, hanging his clothes in my closet. I watched myself not say another word even after he slept over night after night. Turns out, the apartment where I dropped Bobby off the night we met was his friend’s home. He was staying there because he had no place to live, until he met me.