Siobhan calculated the odds, and they really were.
Siobhan: How did you meet?
Tata: He was my next door neighbor in your and my hideous hometown. I lived there thirteen years. He spent them under a car with a spanner. For years, I thought he only existed from the knees down.
Siobhan: And why are we talking about him?
Tata: Daria’s decided he’s my next ex-boyfriend, which implies a level of commitment I can live with. His house is three blocks from me now –
Siobhan: So you can throw him out at 3 a.m. without qualms, I get that. Still, he is a friend of the family.
Tata: Yeah, he and Daria are tight. If you can believe this, I’m just not sure.
Siobhan: Then leave it alone. You’ve never had second thoughts about sleeping around. Or first thoughts, for that matter.
Weeks passed. My sister applied gentle pressure.
Daria: Did you email him yet, damn it?
Tata: It’s bothering you that I’m single?
Daria: YES! It’s like Australian wine and hairless cats. You can’t be single!
Tata: Your brain is a scary, scary place. No, I haven’t emailed him. What would I say? “My place, 8:30, bring condoms and mango chutney.”
Daria: Please. You’ve probably got a form letter.
Tata: I do! “Dear [blank]…”
Daria: So…what? Email him!
Tata: I’ve got stuff to do. Maybe next week.
I don’t know what my problem is so it spills over the side.
Siobhan: Why are we still talking about this guy you’re not dating?
Tata: Every guy we talk about is a guy I’m not dating.
Siobhan: Do they know that?
Tata: Well, a few of them know now.
Thirty miles apart, we both look around for that fourth wall.
Tata: Anyway, this is one for the record books because I still haven’t decided, and a cabal of his and my sisters is making secret plans for us. Which I figured out because even between the two of them they can’t keep a secret.
Siobhan: Hmm. Well, if he comes to your place, there’s less chance he’ll put you through a wood chipper. Your family must take comfort in knowing you don’t own a chainsaw or have time to chop him up by hand.
Tata: Not a fine dice, no. And now I’ve pictured myself julienning him juicily with that Rachael Ray knife.
Siobhan: No, no, no! It says specifically: don’t use that on bone!
Tata: You’re correcting my knifing technique mid-hypothetical killing spree?
Siobhan: You might as well email him. He’s unlikely to murder you.
Tata: Is that why I’ve been reluctant all this time?
Siobhan: You haven’t emailed this guy because the last one was psychotic.
Tata: So you’re saying the scary-bad man frightened me into behaving lady-like?
Tata: …where did I put that form letter…