Robbie and Doris
When I was young there was a neighborhood kid called Robbie. Robbie didn’t hang-out with us, but he would come and go, and we all liked his personality; he was funny and engaging. We had a girl in the neighborhood named Doris, and Robbie had it bad for her. He didn’t mind if anyone knew it either. Robbie would almost daily confess his deep and undying love for Doris and Doris would casually reject his advances. The ritual had gone on for so long that it was fairly formulaic. It was entertaining to watch though, because Robbie had this unlimited capacity for deflecting the rejection. And somehow, Doris had an enduring patience and an ability, refined by time and experience, to dish it out. One time I asked Robbie why he was so persistent when it was clear that Doris had zero interest in him. He just smiled and said “It would be just my luck to give up on the very day she changes her mind.” You had to feel bad for Doris; she was destined to be pestered forever. But I also kind of admired Robbie’s undaunted persistence. Unlike Tracy and Hepburn, Robbie was ultimately disappointed.
I don’t know where Robbie is today, but if he took even a small measure of that persistence into his career, I am sure he was successful. And though she never said so, I suspect Doris secretly enjoyed, at least in some small way, having an admirer who was so devoted. The only real sad part of this story, to my knowledge, is that if it happened today, the only written account of it would be in the form of a court ordered therapist’s notes.
No comments:
Post a Comment