Melina En Nueva York: Episodio IV, El Enfermo
Hoy es viernes, entonces I had another date.
This guy was sick the first time we were supposed to get together, so we didn't, but it seems he actually *was* sick and did want to reschedule, so we'd sent each other about 30 emails by the time we actually met. This actually made me kind of anxious. What if he changed his mind? Life is too short for the coy email exchange.
But we did meet. I liked El Enfermo (he seemed recovered from his illness). His excellent spelling on his e-profile made more sense once I learned that he was a magazine copy editor, which meant he spent a lot of time ensconced in his own little world, poring over text and shaping it into its ideal/correct form. He seemed a little gloomy but I wasn't really sure why. What it seemed like, was, El Enfermo was a man who had been born in the wrong time.
Ma and I have this discussion sometimes - Ma sometimes thinks she was born in the wrong time. And this guy had the same feeling. He enjoys the austerity of copy-editing: working on his own, righting the little sins of the article writers one by one. He lives in Brooklyn surrounded by hipsters. He's not comfortable with grownups "acting like they're still in high school, only with credit cards" (El Enfermo doesn't own a credit card, as he doesn't believe in spending money he doesn't have). He hates Oprah, because even if she's doing good by bringing attention to important causes and making people happy, she seems shallow inside, so that's not okay. He doesn't like cookies in the office, because people giving him cookies are trying to buy his happiness, and cookie-based happiness is temporary and fleeting.
In spite of being so down on everything, El Enfermo made me almost snort out my drink a couple times. Pretty funny guy. No pretences.
El Enfermo does not enjoy postmodern times. How about you -- are they rigt for you? Do you think you'd have done better in some other place or era?