The whole worldwide blogosphere is speculating what if we were having coffee. I consider speculation irrelevant because I strive to be Borg. (We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile. Emotions are irrelevant. So is speculation.) Therefore, I went and actually had coffee. With myself. In a coffee shop.
I had an awesome time as I make myself such a good company. I get all my jokes. I totally tolerate it when I’m not feeling chatty and don’t want to talk to myself. I don’t feel offended when I ignore myself and fiddle with my phone instead. I don’t ask myself what’s up because small talk is a silly pretension. (Also, as an aspiring geek, I only ever ask myself what’s down. No point in discussing what’s up, the concern is what’s down, as of not running.)
My coffee with myself was a prep for another coffee session that might await me. As I happen to be a highly sought-after proofreader, I was sought out by a colleague who had a favour to ask me. The favour was brutally explicit as he wanted me to proofread a very nasty sample of text that he cheekily called his paper. I do hope his thing will not make it on the paper, unless thoroughly revised. Because I’m really a nice person, despite my claims to the opposite, I kept my opinion to myself and performed some elementary proofs on the text.
The author of the horror, the horror was thrilled with the result. He’d be even more thrilled if I enlightened him that English quotation marks take the shape of the number 69, the opening one has its belly down, the closing one has its belly up. But then I’d also have to elaborate on the unacceptability of straight quotation marks in print, which might lead up to some confusion as to whether printed quotation marks must be gay.
As I said, I’m a kind person, so I did the proofs for free. I think that’s how collegiality and friendship work. (Also, that’s probably how come I’m broke.) The colleague, whose last name is Moon and who indeed has such a cheerful full-moon face, offered that he’d take me out for coffee then. I didn’t have the presence of mind to ask to be paid in wine rather than coffee, and that the wine can be sent via delivery because I don’t intend to share it.
I hope colleague Moon will forget about the coffee and won’t force me to waste my time speculating any longer on what if we were having coffee. If said Moon is serious about voluntarily having coffee with a fellow academic, then I’m afraid he can’t be a genuine academic. Academics only have coffee together at conferences, defined as extremely awkward gatherings of socially incompetent people who should be writing.