You Mean Like Kudzu or Athlete's Foot? (7/01/08 Tuesday)

I saw little of Julie today--she works late, I early on Tuesdays--but for a significant moment. At four o'clock I took a few minutes to scarf down a cheesestick in the breakroom before shelving. Much of the late crew was breaking for "dinner". Sitting nearest the room's entrance, I saw Julie approach. I smiled, she smiled. She stopped at the arm of my chair. I could have touched her dangling hand with a lift of my pinky. I looked up at her, she down at me. "I'm starving," she said, "and I didn't bring food." Her voice was low, addressing me solely. "Are you going to beg for some?" "I was considering it. But, you know, there are some frozen dinners in the freezer that have been there since even before I cleaned out the refrigerator. I think I'll go for one of those," "Oh, definitely go for it."

That was the extent of our exchange. I'm aware that it doesn't appear significant; and I've vowed not to unduly inflate an innocuous moment with inferential importance, but we're closer--that much is true. How about if I just refuse to say how much closer I think we are? At first I thought, "She's coming around," but that became distasteful immediately, as it I were chasing a trophy, that the hunt were the thing and not the quarry. And if the quarry doesn't know it's being hunted, then it's being deceived. Of course I don't want to trap Julie. I want to grow on her as she has on me. I want the distance between us to close in; I don't want to have to cover the entire distance myself. It's been both endearing and maddening to think that she hasn't a clue as to my affection for her. The questions I grill her with on the desk should make it feel like a date if only she displayed a like interest in me. I wish someone else could tell I had a crush on Julie. That would be delicious. With all those women there with their famed "intuition", their obliviousness of the situation has to be downright collusive.