Did She Say Not Yet, or Nyet?

As my hearts pangs for she who is not available and does not return calls, I end up at a second lunch with she who does not show on time. I am trying to maintain a positive attitude on a spiritual, emotional, and physical plane. She is a nice person, who returns calls and when she cancels, makes alternative suggestions. This is novel and could be interesting!


Well, my bevy of Dr. Ruth's or fans of the skinny old lady sex therapist late night television hostess who handles penis-lites as if she has been fencing with those plastic anomalies for years and talks like she would be hot in bed, I am in the horns of a dilemma and would appreciate international feedback as to what I have done or need to do.


We have an interesting lunch and are getting to know each other. She is very attractive and the conversation is steering away from the problems areas that raised hackles at the first encounter, but the attraction that I have always felt for she who does not call is present. (This only serves to anger me as I think of how one fool, her ex to be, has the ability to push those emotional buttons at will and distance her from all those who care). As we leave, there is the traditional non-committal thank you for picking up the check hug and we went our separate ways, she to a job and me over to the nearest four way traffic light carrying the will work to pay for the next date sign


As I came home, sunburned from a long afternoon of getting pelted with cheap people's change, I get a phone call. She happens to be coming over to a fine pizza pie establishment near the Sax Den, so I extend the offer for her to come over and see my etchings(very 1960ish era of me). Well, she comes over and we talk, show her my best framed Pierce's and we move towards the door. I get the thanks for feeding me hug but she seems to linger. As we separate, there is that moment of indecision as to what the next step to be. After all she is a mature, responsible woman, I am an immature fun loving man.


So I think of which look do I give, having a variety to choose from. There is the Shariff-Zhivago gaze look, where the lighting just falls on my jet black coals. May have gone over well in the 60's, but nowadays, may be characterized as creepy and obsessive; there is the indifferent James Dean look, but much more effective with the cig dangling, however I do not smoke; there is the boyish Brad Pitt Cheshire grin look, but I have that permanently affixed Elvis curl lip; or the Bogie look, indifferent yet physically menacing.

While trying to decide the best approach in a millisecond and with synapses shooting off in messages to my lips(purse or no), tongue(stay where you are until further orders), hands(keep them clenched, not breast-ready cupped, behind the back), feet(don't fail me now), eyes(don't shut, hell I can't shut), conscience(what the f--k are you doing), and entire body( sway towards, move back); Of all the patented Hollywood moves, your author picks the Pushme-pullyu approach. For those of you to young to remember, this was the crated animal sent to Rex Harrison's Dr. Doolittle which shared two heads that confused humans pulled in opposite directions. So I leaned forward thinking a kiss was in order and once I heard her utter a phrase, I pulled back with a horrified look on my face.

Did she just say not yet, or did I give her the Zhivago look and had a Soviet era nyet shot at me. Irregardless, I felt like a fool and the panic was setting in. First of all, although she is beautiful, there really is not that same attraction with she who does not call, is my first foray into expanding my horizons and stop being the transitional man a flop? Holy shit, she's a sharer, which means that one who announces to all around her meaningless lunch plans would not hesitate to actually report something worthwhile!!

Needless to say, we both could not wait for her to go. She, I am, sure rushing out for no other reason than to get that pizza before it totally coagulated, and I, to embark on my evening 3 mile run in order to I-Pod blast these thoughts out of my mind with the help of Mick and Keith. I left the traditional message apologizing before I turned off the cell and turned on high volume "All Down the Line."

The question I have for all of the Saxettes is this, do I ask if she said not yet, or was it nyet?Some of you are already thinking get over the one you adore before moving on, but I need to do something. Hanging out with my muses and watching chick flicks is not cutting it anymore. I love them, and the education I have received from their no detail sparing, evil manner of talking about men, is priceless. The one has caught my interest because of her amazing soul is for now totally lost nd in her two week silence is sending me a message. I cannot assume the role of the saving-guy, although I want to be there when she needs a hand.

So where do I go from here,

So asks Sax...