It was very forward of the young man to leave a bit of paper on my desk with his name, calling number, and place of residence. I was taken aback. It was not even a formal calling card, nor have the young man and I been properly introduced.
I have been taught to classify such actions as ill-breeding. A potential gentleman caller must first appeal to my father and mother for approval, and then our courtship must always be public and maintain some semblance of propriety. He must be chivalrous, and I must be coy.
The young man's breach of courtship ritual suggests his ill-breeding, lack of decorum, and intentions that do not pertain to marriage. Still, I was intrigued by the young man's sheer audacity.
The offending paper. Oh the drama! He left the classroom before I could respond to the slip of paper he both slyly and obviously left on my desk. Perhaps he is aware that his actions breach propriety. But perhaps he does not care, which is different from being completely oblivious to his own impropriety. The fact that he may reject society's idea of how suitors should conduct themselves endears the young man to me. His rebel nature makes me blush.
I heavily considered the manner in which I should approach my predicament. The desire to know more of this daring young man's intentions rules over my reasoning faculty. Instead of throwing the paper away, the sensible thing to do, I entered the young man's calling number into my cellular phone and wrote him a text letter:
"Dear Sir, while I am aware of the impropriety of your actions, I must admit that I find you to be a most fascinating and becoming gentleman. But perhaps you will consider your actions and make an effort to behave better in the future. It is the only way you can hope to attain my true affection."
His reply was most difficult to decipher:
"Hey! Sup? Talk 2 u tom."
I couldn't believe that he was asking me to sup with him—alone, presumably—before calling on me at my home. Surely, mother will want to hold a dinner party for us to become better acquainted.
But, then, I so want to sup with the young man, alone. I am trying to be reasonable about this and not act foolishly, but his eyes… his cologne…
I will have to relay my disappointment in the young man's vulgar attempt to make me a dishonest woman, tomorrow. Until then, diary, I remain truthfully and properly yours.
Yours
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