Last night, there was a party I didn’t bother to attend, as I only seem to get in trouble when I hang out with them, anyway.  But, from most accounts, it was a pretty good party.
     Apparently, someone really liked a friend of mine, and instead of mentioning it, decided to be a wallflower, and wait until today to ask.
     “Would you have danced with me last night if I asked you to?”

     It’s been a long time, but  I remember girls asking things like that in high school.  They were young, hadn’t come into their own, and lacked the self-esteem to just walk up and say, “Hey, wanna dance?” “We should go out some time,” or “Here’s my phone number.”
     Even worse were the silly, self-doubting, unsure questions after “hanging out” somewhere.  Things like, “Would you have kissed me last night?”
     For me, even though I was the same age, the answer was always, “No.  You’re too young.”
     Honestly, that probably didn’t help their self-esteem either, but nobody’s ever called me on it, and I did try and explain myself.  Although I probably could have explained it better, I wasn’t trying to hurt their feelings.  It was just that, for a lot of reasons other than making out, I had very little in common with them, and I simply wasn’t interested.

     I think that’s pretty much how my friend felt this afternoon, when replying, “No, you’re not mature enough.”

     I certainly hope her answer didn’t hurt his little high-school-girl feelings.  I mean, with that much self-doubt and low self-esteem, a rejection like that might throw his damn-near-forty-years-old psyche directly into a mid-life crisis, thus destroying the mood for his Monday Manicure…