Mr. P.

I've set the idea of composing an entry all about Mr. P. on the percolator for some time now. I want to write about him because he arouses my curiosity, and I've always been very curious about (certain) people I meet - some people would call me a busybody.

But it's so hard to write anything about Mr. P. because ... he's very difficult for me to describe. I think this difficulty has its roots in my conflicting feelings about him.

Like I've told the guys, I like Mr. P. some, but I don't trust him at all. Germ thinks it's because "Mr. P. is a guy, and you know how you are with guys". (He prolly has a point there, but I'm not entirely willing to concede it at this point; I mean, I think I would prolly find Mr. P. more trustworthy if I knew for certain he is gay.)

Or maybe I only keep saying I don't trust Mr. P. at all because I need to remind myself of that fact. The truth is, I know myself - not inside out, but well enough - to realize I'm guillible: I believe and trust strangers quickly and easily, provided I don't instinctively feel wary about them at first sight.

Maybe I think I shouldn't trust Mr. P. because he talks too fast and he's quick-witted. People as slow and dense as I am ought to be on their guard around people this sharp - the same way a boiled potato would around a scalpel.

Had he been a friend, I might've greatly appreciated him and his company; as the guy who dishes out my assignments and who I still consider an acquaintance, I spend a lot of my time with him trying not to give away too much about myself, building up walls even as I talk freely about my opinions and sentiments about his chosen topics.

This evening, I wondered if Mr. P. has been playing mind-games with me. (This is why Doreen labeled me "paranoid".) I don't like mind-games because I'm too dense for them. Either on the giving or receiving end, I suck at them; I just don't get them. (And obviously, I was an abysmal student of literature, too.)

Mr. P. not only talk really fast and a lot, his train of thought gets derailed, like, every five sentences. To be able to get him, you'll not only have to be able to catch what he's saying aurally, you'll also have to be able to catch the word games involved. Sometimes I get him; Geeta almost never does. (I think that has more to do with her being only eighteen though.)

I spent three hours on Friday mostly listening to Mr. P. talk. After my meeting with Mr. P., I hooked up with the boys for dinner. They asked many questions pertaining to my prior meeting, but I couldn't answer them. Mr. P. hardly - if ever - gets to the point (sometimes I'm not even sure he makes his point before he digresses), and I've a short attention span - even shorter when I'm tired, which I was that Friday afternoon/evening. He's always losing me ten minutes ago.

And, because I'm paranoid and cynical (Mr. P. had concurred with Doreen on this), his telling me (certain) stuff only after Geeta had left made me even more distrustful of him. For example, when Geeta was still around, Mr. P. said, in reference to his inpromptu three-year hiatus in Oz, "I never talk about my personal life."

Fine; Geeta and I both respected that, and the conversation moved on. An hour later, as I continued sitting at his desk, he let on the reason(s) for his hiatus from Singapore.

He wanted me to work full time for him, because (he said): one, he feels "comfortable" with (around?) me; two, he thinks I'm "witty"; and three, he doesn't believe people meet coincidentally - there's always a reason behind coming across the people he does in life - and he wants to be able to keep in contact with these people.

Honestly, who can buy that?

Personally, I think he feels "comfortable" with/around me because get him more often than Geeta does. I suspect my guarded silence and apparently rapt audience just happen to complement his loquaciousness and flatter his inner showman.

Or am I really too cynical?

Part of my misgivings about him also come from the way he talks about himself and his achievements. I wouldn't call it 'boasting', but there's just something about it that doesn't sit well with me. And then there are the things (that concern me) which I think sound too good to be true.

At the end of the day, I think the main reason I have doubts about him (as a person - not just his veracity) is because he seems to treat me as an intellectual equal, an adult.

I'm not; I'm not "witty" or "fast-witted" or "worldly". Emotionally and intellectually, I'm really still just a twelve year old girl.

I guess I wish Mr. P. would stop treating me and talking to me as his equal: he's making me feel like such a fraud.