The New M.E. Generation











We decided to go for a drink after the movie. I offered to buy the first round at a bar; Ross neither answered yes or no.

Once again the location made me felt like I’m back in college, so I shifted the conversation towards this topic.

He tells me that he worked his way through school, but has not yet completed his degree. He taught English in Venezuela. He moved to ‘the city’ to basically get away from the cold Massachusetts weather. His last job didn’t work out as planned. He’s in the process of reorganizing his life.

‘Reorganizing his life, interesting. Sounds just like me,’ I thought to myself.

He also sounded younger than me. OK, it’s my turn to drop the bomb.

“How old are you Ross?”
“30.” (record scratching)

The bomb got dropped on me instead.

What is going on here? Am I looking that young? Am I really that pretty or are these men just looking for something else? Let’s get this straight; I’m almost old enough to be this guy’s mom.

I started hyperventilating again.

‘Please don’t ask me how old I am. Please, please, please!!!’ I said to myself while breathing in fast speed ready to deliver a baby. I’ve never had a child but this was definitely the closest I could get.

My inner voice then talked to me, “Emma, think quickly!! Do something!!!”

A millisecond passed and I’m staring at Ross with my eyes wide open like deer’s in the headlights.

Another millisecond passed when I finally reacted. I turned to the bartender and shouted, “Two more beers please!!”

I then turned back again looking at Ross. “And these ones are on me!!”

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The next day Steve inquired about me at work.

George had explained to me that his desk and that of Steve’s are closely located to one another. Steve has the habit of speaking to him while sitting at his desk, with his face so close to his work, his voice sounds like he is deep inside a hole.

George is deeply concentrated on a design when he hears a weird voice calling him.

“Oh, George…”
“Steve…”
“Do you know where your friend is?”
“Somewhere in the city, that’s for sure.”
“Ok.”

About an hour later…
“George.”
“Steve.”
“Has your friend called?”
“No, but I’m sure she’s just fine.”
“Just checking…”
“I appreciate your interest Steve.”
“Any time.”

About another hour later…
“George!”
“Steve!”
“Do you know anything about your friend?”
“No, Steve, but I assure you you’ll be the first to know when that happens.”
“Please make sure you tell me.”
“I’ll hold your word on that.”

When George and I are heading home, he tells me the Steve story, and I’m amused at my 15 minutes of fame.

“Emma, you don’t realize it, but you are a very beautiful person in every sense of the word. That guy left you because he couldn’t appreciate you for what you really are.

There is a reason why this all happened. I can’t answer that for you, but what I can surely say is that you deserve better than him.

I know there’s so much for you out there and that, one way or the other, you’ll get where you need to go.”

I started crying and turned my face to the window so he can’t see me doing so. “I know, George, I know.”



et cetera