The Bishop and the Queen

Though the title bears a clue of the protagonist of this shit show, what you see with this guy is very much not what you get.

I’m pushy, I know what I want, and because I really wanted to shift this one, I actually stalked him. I felt like that three second interaction at one of his gigs was enough to strike up a conversation and so I did. Judge me if you please.

It took three weeks before he asked me on a date. It was dinner. I wanted Italian. He wanted sushi. That was our first argument. It was awkward. The restaurant didn’t have the drink he wanted and he threw a little tantrum.

People are always better from far away I guess.

He talked about his family problems, his career crisis and his desire to leave the country before I had finished my starter. Then he ate some of my tofu without permission and the excitement came to an final halt when he told me he didn’t want to actually date me he just wanted me to do his marketing. I found this funny and appreciated the honesty so we decided to be friends and had several more vodkas. He had a lot more than I did. I was home by 12.

So I try to help with his marketing. He’s disorganized, had no actual plan but an ambitious vision that might actually work. Work-wise he’s professional, mannerly and kind. You can tell he would be extremely successful if he would only believe in himself. Post marketing meeting no.1 with all terms & conditions agreed he kisses me, and that’s where it all went wrong.

It was like a see-saw. Three months ensued with neither of us knowing what the hell we were doing. We would go to sleep listening to podcasts of Pod Save America and most of the time we just drank tea. It was just once or max twice a week with just a couple of hours together and I guess it was because we were both just a bit lonely.

Unexpectedly, I have a day off and he’s still in my bed the morning of. Let me tell you, he’s a very nice sight to wake up to. He joins me for the day. We order pizza and watch the purge holding hands because I’m scared shitless.

Then all of a sudden, Frank Sinatra is playing and I am being swung around the sitting room with my feet on top of his.

For a moment I think he might actually like me and we haven’t just been playing a game of Jumanji.

Then it goes dark. The competitive sibling syndrome leaves him unfathomably unhappy. Nothing is ever enough and he goes on a binge for 5 days and ignores me. I ask him what he actually wants with me and he freaks. We are causing a scene in NoLita and he puts me in a cab. We don’t see each other again but we both ignore the odd drunken call.

Just like in chess, a bishop’s talent can often be overlooked and on the complicated board of life, can go unnoticed. Perhaps he will never be happy, but I do hope he someday finds his queen.

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