"That's Right. I'm Superman."

Story Sent in by Kristy:

Jake messaged me online, and after talking for a little while, he asked me out on a date.  We went out to one of my favorite places.  He wore nice dress pants and a button-down shirt.  This will be important to remember.

Jake wasn't the best in-person conversationalist.  Whenever we spoke about something, he seemed in a rush to bring the conversation to an end.  I'd ask, "Tell me about your job."

He'd reply, "Oh, it's a job.  Not much to it."

I'd ask, "What's your favorite place to have traveled?"

He said, "Oh, everywhere's nice.  That's all I've got to say."  Great.  Eventually, I gave up and we slipped into an uneasy silence.

Then, he groaned a mighty groan, as if he was tired.  He then sat back and before my eyes ripped open his button-down shirt to reveal… a Superman shirt underneath.  He looked away and slowly nodded, as if to say, "That's right.  I'm Superman."

He was looking for something, that was obvious.  A reaction, any reaction at all.

I didn't give him one.

Instead, I went on as if nothing at all was amiss.  I asked, "So, you have a sister, right?  What does she do?"

He glanced from me, to his shirt, and then back at me.  I felt his frustration, but I wasn't going to give him a thing.  Was he expecting me to rip my clothes off in amazement at his ability to wear a shirt bearing the logo of a comic book character?

He cleared his throat.  Ooh.  He wanted that reaction, bad.  I reminded him, "Your sister…?"

He then stretched, or rather pretended to stretch, and pressed his chest out toward me, so that I could see the logo even better.  Thanks!  You think you're Superman!  Still not impressed!  Still waiting to hear about your sister!

I said, "Do you not want to talk about your sister?"

He cleared his throat again and lightly pointed, with both of his index fingers, at his shirt.  If nothing else, he was persistent.  If something else, he was annoying.  I resisted the urge to call him an idiot and went on, "I have a sister and a brother, both younger.  She's finishing college and he just started his own business as a–"

He tapped his shirt and said, "Superman.  Superman!"

I said, "No, he started a business doing custom detail work on cars.  He's really good at it, too."

Again, Jake pointed to his shirt, earnestly, and with feeling.  "Superman."

I narrowed my eyes and said, "I don't get what you're trying to tell me."

He sighed and folded his button-down shirt over Superman.  For the rest of dinner, he didn't say too much.  He did pay for mine, and I thanked him for it.

When we left and were outside, he asked if he could see my phone.  I asked him why, and he replied, "I want to see how I'm listed in your phone.  You should have me down as Superman."

I shot back, "Once you start living up to that name, we'll see."

He looked down and said, "Oh, okay."  The date ended a minute or two later, with an awkward hug.  He then flew up into the air and out of sight, and by that I mean he trudged back to his car and drove away.

My hero.