My Name is Blue Van Meer: Diary Entry 2009 85 by Aylma Pessl

You may recall that my only previous romantic liaisons had been with the burly, meat-headed, turn-coat Milton. Our brief, yet passionate (at least on my side, he was more like the un-interested prom date (see poor, simple and happy Zach) kiss was my longest foray into the oral cavity. I remember it well, my tongue slipping and sliding around like a dying snake, muscles contorting violently as it’s life faded away. Left and then up; and I could taste his filling. In hindsight, it was the hallmark of the amateur, of the first timer.

And it was wonderful.

I wanted my first kiss with Rudy to be better. Less sliping and slidin, more controlled, slipping and sliding.

Rudy was in my South American “politics” class (Insurgency and Iconic Photography: L’amerique du sud [Sorry Dad, I never bothered to ask why the class title was in French]). We were not exactly chatting lately, but we acknowledged each other. The knowing look, “I know you and you know me and I wish you would speak to me because I don’t think I have the courage to make the first move” (see Chapter 13 in Building Long Lasting Relationships by Tez MacNamara, 2004). But it was time for some action. It was time to think, to be inspired. It was time for my Vince Lomabardi moment.

I decided to go for the “I’m in a hurry, intelligent women wearing spectacles who left her pen at home” technique. Flawless.

I saw my prey coming down the corridor. He was dressed a little differently than his normal vogue. Today he wore an un-tucked(!!) black, short sleaved shirt and neat pants combination. I was hovering behind a door when I saw him duck into class. I locked in and moved after him.

Floating a short distance beyond him, I almost had to shove a rather pink looking Clare Ridgedale out of the way as I sat next to him. We greeted each other. I felt a little breathless but managed to suppress it to engage in this tantalizing back and forth.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Mesmorizing, I know.

I began searching for my “missing” pen (see Mating Rituals of the Extinct Pareabolis Dictus – A bird for All occasions by Dr. Stephan Finine, 1923. Pay particular attention to the Chapter 2, 6 and the last section of Chapter 9). I unzipped this and slapped that, and made the most racket I could muster. He paid attention; I could feel his eyes on me. Finally, just when things started to get rather “lairy” (see I Predict a Riot, Kaiser Chiefs), he offered his pen to me.

“Thanks.”

Another witty, intelligent offering from Blue Van Meer.

We sat in silence for the remainder of the class. Our hour ended, and off we both headed, towards the only exit. He hesitated for a moment, and turned to face me. Before he could utter a sound, I thanked him for his pen.

‘No problem,’ he said with a smile. I wanted to tell him that it was just about the worse Biro I had ever had the pleasure of using, and that I would probably have to swing past the Department of Extinct Languages in order to translate the scratches in my note-book. I wanted to say that there was no place for a green Biro in college. I wanted to tell him that he was a little too thin. I wanted to tell him he was cute. So cute.

But I handed it over and mentioned that next time, he could borrow my pen.

‘Sorry…?’

My cheeks flushed red at this point - they are red right now, scrawling furiously this tale of the time Rudy asked me out – I tried to think of something amazingly funny and witty to cover the rather odd offering.

‘Ah, I was referring to a letter that Bryon wrote to Mary Shelley before she wasted the entire world’s time writing that horrid book of her’s, Frankenstein. He was responding to her difficulty in putting an idea down on paper and he suggested she look to the classics and take something from them.’

‘Blue, I am a little confused by what the point you are evidently trying to make...’ – Okay, he didn’t actually say this, but if he had I would probably have jumped him there and then.

‘Well, Bryon suggested she borrow from the classics and that she could “borrow” a “quill” from him.’

Rudy listened patiently to my elaborate fabrication. And politely.

‘I see… Blue, would you like to get a coffee or something?’

I cancelled my appointment at the Department of Extinct Languages.