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: : : PAUL WORKS NIGHTS, AND LYDIA works days, and so they don't see one another as often as they'd like. Plus she usually doesn't want to go down and visit Paul at his new place because he's still living with Marvin, who she just flat-out doesn't want to see right now. She still feels freaked about that stuff that happened back in the spring, especially because she feels like that stuff is kind of indirectly responsible for ending her relationship with Austin. The logic works like this: if that weird shit with Marvin hadn't gone down she maybe wouldn't have had to hide out at Austin's so often, and if she hadn't been hiding out over at Austin's so often she would never have read those e-mails, and if she hadn't read those e-mails then maybe Austin's infatuation with that Rose person would have played itself out, and maybe everything would have turned out okay. It's kind of a stretch, she knows that, but the bottom line is that when she thinks about Marvin she gets sad about Austin all over again, and if she actually were to see Marvin she thinks she'd feel doubly sad, and Marvin's usual bullshit is hard enough to deal with even when she's in a good mood.
But every once in a while forces converge harmoniously—Marvin has plans on one of Paul's nights off—and it's then that she'll schedule in a visit. So tonight she's sitting with Paul on the couch, catching up.
—I'm seeing a guy, says Lydia.
—Oh, really? says Paul. —Do tell.
—I don't know, says Lydia. —There's not that much to tell. We've only gone out like twice.
—Well, what's he like?
—He's short, says Lydia.
—Oh, says Paul.
—Yeah, I don't know, says Lydia. She rubs at her face. —He's short, he's kind of annoying, and last time we went out we kissed and he, uh, how can I put this diplomatically?
—Not very good?
—It's not that he wasn't good, says Lydia. —I mean, I've kissed guys who were way worse. But I just—I just didn't feel it. It just didn't do anything for me. I felt like I was kissing him because it was, you know, expected. Like oh, its our second date, I haven't kissed him yet, I guess I'd better. And it was, you know, OK, but there was a part of me that knew I'd have had a better time if I'd just stayed in, ordered Chinese, put on an AbFab episode...
—So why didn't you? says Paul.
Lydia shrugs. —In theory it seems like a good idea to just stay in and have a weekend night to myself, she says. —But then when I actually do it, when I actually stay in, I feel so lame. My apartment gets so quiet. Even with the TV on it seems quiet. I end up feeling like everybody's out there having fun except me; I'm at home, lying on the couch like this horrible slug. I feel like I should be out there going dancing or something, instead of sitting there, watching the tube, getting fat. So I'll like go out to the bar, and that's shit, or I'll go out with Julius—that's this guy—and that's weird and lame—
—So when you go out you wish you'd stayed in, and when you stay in you wish you'd gone out.
—Exactly, Lydia says. —The bottom line is that everything is lame. There's this woman at work, Anita, and she's like just go out with him; she sees it as, I don't know, a way for me to get back into the game, I guess, and I get that, but I just think about going home with this guy and it just seems so—ugh. It's like—I can't imagine fucking someone just like because, you know? Just as like a thing to do.
—Yeah, Paul says.
—But I don't know, Lydia says. —Maybe it's better to be fucking someone than to not be fucking someone.
—I wouldn't know, says Paul.
—Poor sweetie, Lydia says. She leans back and puts her head in his lap. He scratches her head and she marvels quietly at the ease they share. Everything is so simple with Paul; why can't things ever be this easy with the guys she dates?
—So still no leads for you? she asks. —Romantically?
—I don't know, Paul says. —That Ted Allen is cute.
—No, Lydia says. —No TV crushes! You don't see me being all James Marsters, do you?
—Yes, Paul says.
—Shut up, says Lydia. She reaches up to swat him on the shoulder. —Seriously. There's nobody in the picture?
—There is this one guy, Paul says.
—Aha, says Lydia. —Tell me more.
—He works with me at PITS; a new guy. I'm actually training him.
—Very sexy.
—Yeah right, says Paul.
—So what's his name?
—Scott, says Paul.
—Scott, eh? Sounds cute.
—He's kind of cute.
—And you think he's…
—I don't know, says Paul. —I'm always such a bad judge.
—Introduce me to him, she says. —I'll figure it out. I'll crack him open like a nut. She clasps her fingers together.
—You're sweet, Paul says.
—Thanks.
—I miss you, Paul says.
—I miss you too, Lydia says.
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