The Return of Jenny

Apparently, I don't quit relationships any better than I retire from racing.

For those new to the blog, the only time I mentioned Jenny was after we broke up (I said nice things here). More than a year later, we decided to get coffee. My thought was that it's like putting spoiled milk back in the refrigerator hoping it'll get better, but we've known each other for the better part of 20 years; you shouldn't throw away friendships casually.

Some of the conversation:

"Are you seeing anyone, Steve?
- Not seriously. Kind of.
"Give me details. What's her name? What's she do?"
- Her name is Rio and she dances on the sand.
(laughs) "Would she get that reference?" [link in case you don't]
- Well, she likes me, so she likes old things.
"Oh, no. Don't tell me you're in full mid-life crisis. How young is she?"
- I'm using the modified Frenchman's Rule.
"Frenchman's Rule... isn't that half your age, plus seven years? What's the modification?"
- Half my age, plus daddy issues.
(snort) "You're not rich enough to be Charlie Sheen."
- Losing!
"Seriously, you have me worried."
- (pause, looking down) I don't have dating clothes any more.
"You need new shoes. How old are those? And your hair... how long has that been going on? Have you looked in a mirror in the last year?"
- Thanks. You look nice, too.
(laugh) "Sorry. I just don't like seeing you look so... unhappy."
- I'm okay. Really. I...
"Don't bother lying. I know you too well. I want to know you're okay."
.....................
(looking at a spot on my arm) "You should have that looked at."
- It's nothing. I've had one before, it goes away.
"It's called remission."
- It's not cancer. It came out of nowhere, instead of growing slowly. It's round. It's one color. It's got a clear defined border. It's not bleeding.
"That only applies to melanoma. It could be something else. You should have it looked at."

Later:

"Did you go to the doctor?"
- It's nothing.
"It's not nothing. It's something. You should at least know what it is. Let me take a look."
(looks)
"It's bigger. It's not round any more."
- I've been picking at it. It itches. Cancer doesn't itch.
"For God's sake, just have it looked at!"

Later (on the phone)

"So?"
- It's not cancer.
"Did you go to the doctor?"
- Yes. It's not cancer.
"What did the doctor say?"
- It's not cancer.
"Well, what is it? God, you're infuriating."
(click)

Maybe if I put it back in the fridge for a while...