Rebuttal Post: Someone Skipped Chemistry Class

("James," the subject of Someone Skipped Chemistry Class, has submitted his own version of events on that date.  James says: "Please keep our names to the pseudonyms written in the original post.  I have no desire to humiliate anyone: only to clear the record.")


Rebuttal Story Submitted by James:

Rachel and I met, much as she says.  "Quiet and a little awkward" is one of her many generalizations and uninformed statements.  Contrary to her belief, I am gregarious.  The fact that we don't travel in the same social circles does not force the conclusion that I am "quiet and awkward," much as her own behavior does not necessarily imply that her friends are boisterous shocks of screaming excitement.

As she has said, I asked her out after a philosophy class.  In her defense, she was charming and seemed very interested in learning more about me, as I also felt about her.  We did indeed go to a local Mexican restaurant for our date, and I did offer to pay, but here the tale diverges.

She thanked me, and I picked up a menu.  She then asked, "Were you just staring at my breasts?  Please don't."

I put the menu down and said, "I did not just look at your mammaries," and I said it in a very obviously joking tone, despite the statement's truth, "And if I had, then I'm sure I would have meant it as a compliment."

I smiled at her, but she said nothing to that and picked up her menu.  I said, "I'm just kidding around.  I didn't look at your breasts, and I'm sorry if it seemed that I did."

"Can we stop talking about it?" she asked.

She came off as touchy, and so I changed the subject.  "Have you been here before?  Do you want some recommendations?"

She said, "Sure," and so I pointed out a few items on her menu.  More silence on her end.  I wasn't sure what to say until after our orders were taken.  I asked her what she wanted to talk about.

"How are you doing in philosophy?" she asked.

I said, "I'm looking forward to the upper-level courses."  She nodded and didn't volunteer anything further.  I asked, "And how is it treating you?"

She sighed loudly and said, "Fine, okay?"

Clearly I had hit a nerve, but I had no idea how.  I asked her, "Is everything okay?  We could talk about something else.  Endangered species, if there's ever such a thing as a benevolent dictator, Venezuela..."

"James, I–" she stopped herself.  Something was very obviously amiss.

I asked her, "Rachel, please tell me what's wrong.  Did I offend you?"

She gave me more silent treatment.  I volunteered, "I'm planning to go to the Middle East this summer."  She laughed dismissively to herself, as if she thought me stupid for even having the audacity to be breathing near her.  I asked her, "What will you be doing over the summer?"

A shrug.

I said, "Have you been to the Middle East?  It's safer there then the media would have you believe."

"I haven't been," she said, looking away.

Our food arrived, and I told her, "I'm glad to be here, with you."

No response.  I gave up and tried my best to enjoy dinner, for which, as we seem to agree, I did pay.

Once we left the restaurant, I asked her if she wanted to take a walk (it was November, so I guessed that she wouldn't go for the plan) or if she wanted to go to a cafe, or if I could walk her back to her residence.

She said, "I'm just going to go," and left me there, without explanation or goodbye.

The e-mail, which I won't quote again, was correct, verbatim.  Perhaps it was immature of me to send it, but she only had to sit through five seconds of reading it.  I had to sit through over an hour of her behavior, and I wouldn't have felt right unless I told her what was on my mind.

Grade-schooler indeed.


(See Rachel's original post here.)