What comes around........

10:00 Tuesday. A receptionist (not Lila) comes in with some flowers for me. They are from Kelly. The card says:

HEY BABE - THANKS FOR A MEMORABLE EVENING. BUT YOU'RE STILL A JERK! LOVE, KELLY

I am reminded of the movie "Boomerang" with Eddie Murphy. He's a popular guy, and successful with the girls, but he meets his match in Robin Givens. They reverse roles, essentially. They screw; she is on top. She doesn't call him; he gets all emotional. He complains that he got $1000 worth of parking tickets waiting for her; he wakes up and the money is on his pillow.

Am I getting boomerang'd? Am I the woman in this relationship?

The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. I get called for a late-night booty call. I go snooping in her drawers. She is coaching the sexual action like some kind of porn director. and now she's sending me flowers.

You know what? I'm not gonna stand for this shit! I'm gonna.... I'm gonna....

Do nothing.

That's what I'm gonna do...let her come chasing after me. But then again, isn't that just what a girl would do? Fuck.

I pick up the phone and call Kelly. Voice mail.

"HEY. It's me. Call me." CLICK.

How's that for "phone manners", BI-YOTCH?!

11:30. I'm in a meeting. My phone rings. Kelly. I let it go to voice mail.

11:45. I call Kelly back.

"This is Kelly!"

"Heyyyyyyyyy!"

"OK, I get it! I'll stop nagging you!"

"The flowers smell nice." Oh, and your asshole felt pretty good, too.

"hm."

"Send them to my house next time. I don't like my coworkers knowing my business." Or my other girlfriends!

"Who says there's gonna BE a next time?" she says.

"Gotcha."

"I have a confession to make," Kelly says.

"What?"

I am vaguely aware that there are people hovering around my office, pointing at my flowers. I cover the mouthpiece. "They're from my mother, congratulating me for the promotion," I say. The crowd disperses dejectedly. I immediately put the card through the shredder.

"That was my first time doing it that way," she says.

"REALLY?"

"My husband used to beg me to do it all the time, but I never let him....he was just too friggin' big."

OUCH!! Yikes! Is this chick some kind of friggin' MONSTER? Well played though, I must say. Her husband is big, and I am....not, is the implication. Way to cut a man down to size, honey!

But you know the Steve Rule: Never show emotion. "Is that right," I say cheerfully, pretending not to notice the bank shot she just took at me. "I wonder why you left him, then".

"Well, I haven't left him, totally...."

Obviously, I am up against a professional here, guys.

"WOW! You're screwing two people at the same time? You sure you're not a guy?" I ask.

"You've seen everything. You tell me!" She says. "Anyway, I'm glad you like the flowers. And, actually, I'm pretty fucking sore, right now. I could use a dip in the hot tub tonight. Yours."

"I'm busy tonight. Tomorrow, too. How 'bout Friday?"

"Can't do Friday," she says.

I could ask her out for Saturday, but it just seems too 'desperate'. With a girl like this, who plays hardball, she gets one shot, then she loses. "Fear of loss," the sales guys call it. Accept my terms, or you don't get what you want.

"I'm out of town all next week, and I'll be getting ready all weekend," I say. "I'll call you when I get back."

Or not.

"Ok......wait!" she says.

"Hm?"

"I might be able to switch something around on Friday night."

"It's ok."

"No, it's no problem!" she says. "How about drinks at 7 at the Copa?"

"How about the hot tub at 6? I'll provide the drinks," I say.

"That sounds NICE. Can't wait!" she exclaims. "Bye babe!"

That's right, honey. You mess with the bull, you get the horns.

Hope she doesn't have to do a lot of walking on Saturday.