The RCB Paradox.

So, my bff from college is visiting me this week. After an ordeal consisting of lost luggage, bad directions and the worst rental car ever, she arrived at my office ready to have drinks. With me. And RCB.

How I got him to agree to come with us, I do not know. What boy wants to spend an hour or two with two girl friends who hadn't seen each other in months? Ok, so maybe I said something like "we see each other all the time, you won't be intruding" in response to [his obvious] "I don't want to interrupt girl time."

So he came and the three of us had drinks and talked and laughed. It was fun. A lot of fun. BFF, once RCB left, said, "RD, I really like him. He's nice and cute and funny and engaging...but then I remember all we know. And I get really confused. WTF is his deal? I just don't get him. He's so weird."

Yes, BFF, neither do I. Neither do I.

BFF also said she woke up in the middle of the night with the revelation: "RCB is just immature!" Ah, but we knew this and, in fact, he has admitted it to me himself. (Hoist that flag!)

Lately I've thought that maybe it's not worth the effort of trying to understand him, that I should cut my losses. Especially since I suspect that I'm not the only girl who is gazing into his amazing blue eyes. Which, as my sage mother said, I can't hold against him because he doesn't owe me anything at this point.

But then he gets up to leave and touches my arm and tells me he'll talk to me the next day. And serious electricity courses through my body.