The Bucko Stops Here

Story Sent in by Jules:

I met Stephanie online, and her profile essays were refreshing: well-written, clever, and enticing. I wrote to her and she wrote back almost at once. She seemed very excited to hear from me, and asked me, in that first response email, if I wanted to meet in person.

I wasn't used to a woman being so interested in meeting me after only one message. Still, I guessed that perhaps she had read something that she really liked in my profile, and that her exuberance was based off of that.

I asked her when she wanted to meet up. "Tonight!" came her reply. Well, okay.

We met up at a late-night cafe and sat down together. She looked great, and for the first several minutes of that, our first meeting, I thought that everything would turn out fine.

Then she said, "Are you still friends with anyone you've made out with?"

I hesitated, but replied, "Yes, why?"

She said, "They go or I go, bucko."

Again, a hesitation on my part. I asked, "Why does anyone need to go?"

She said, "Or you can just be a stupid bucko."

"Are you for real?" I remember asking her that at least twice.

She said, "That's how I'm working it."

"Okay," I said, disappointed, "Then maybe we should just be friends."

"Ugh!" she said, then groaned and tossed her head back, announcing loud enough for everyone in the place to hear, "This guy is a bucko. A class-A bucko."

People looked at her, then looked at each other, then looked away. She pointed at me, and said, "Bucko!" then shook her head as if she felt sorry for me, but again repeated, "Bucko. Well, what now?"

I wasn't sure what else she expected of me, so I asked her, "I think it's up to you. You can stay or go, I guess."

"You don't care?" she asked, then settled down into her seat and said, "If it's all the same to you then I'd like to stay here and call you 'bucko' a bit more. It's actually a lot of fun."

I replied, "Will you excuse me for just a sec?" I stood up and made for the door.

Behind me, I heard her yell, "Where are you going, bucko?" but I didn't bother to respond.

She wrote me the following message, which had arrived in my email box before I even made it home:

"Dear Bucko:

I'm sorry that you've seen fit to terminate a healthy, good thing that we had going. I felt like you and I were already old friends together, but if you just want to be an ass about it, then I guess I can't stop you, bucko.

One for old times' sake: bucko.

Stephanie."