Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Infuriated does not begin to describe how I feel. 

Some months go by, next meeting comes around, and Mr. Liberal starts melting his eyes all over again. Then, I should have braced, because if I hadn't been such an idiot, and left my guard so low, so low it had sunk into the ground to reach Peking, I would have known BIG insult was heading right my away, right then.

I tell Mr.Liberal that I had met a nice woman who had given me two important contacts for the research project and what is his reaction? Mr.Liberal looks at me as if he has just had had his worst fears confirmed -- if she isn't married, and she mentioned a nice woman, she must be a lesbian! Look, she has just mentioned a female friend who gave her contacts! There it is, proof, proof, proof --if she doesn't have a husband, any woman she mentions is proof that she is a homosexual!

I, going on my awful inertia of his past couple of sweet looks, simply ignore what just happened regarding Mr.Liberal's awful my-homosexual-fears-have-been-confirmed look, and every now and then I look back at Mr.Liberal and I communicate an interest back as we continue the meeting.

Mr. Liberal was not expecting this, it seems. Apparently, he can look any personal way he wants at me, and that has no ethical problems whatsoever, but the minute I look back at him, Mr. Liberal starts hardening his look. Then his looks quickly change into an amorphous but distinct stiffness, than perversity, than reprimand.

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