“Oh, sure,” he said casually, “lots of times. But I just wave and smile at them, and they don’t bother me.” He looked at me shrewdly. “I have a way of handling things like that. Whenever something unpleasant happens, I ask myself ‘What would Superman do?’ For example, if somebody started making fun of Superman, it wouldn’t bother him at all. He’d know who he was and what he could do, and their remarks would bounce right off of him like bullets.”
I had my doubts. “What if people don’t want to talk to somebody who’s wearing a costume? Don’t you find that you put people off sometimes?”
“I suppose so,” he said thoughtfully, “but if they don’t want to deal with me that’s fine. I’m not trying to impose myself on others, I’m just trying to get by like everybody else. I just do it in a different way.”
He saw that I was skeptical, and suddenly he perked up. “Hey, I’ve got an idea – are you doing anything tomorrow night?”
When I admitted that I had no plans, he got excited. “Instead of another interview, why don’t you come out with me? We’ll go someplace and you can see what it’s like for yourself.”
When I hesitated, he leaned across the table eagerly. “Come on, it’ll be fun. What have you got to lose?”
This was starting to turn into more than I’d bargained for, but I knew what my editor would want me to do, and besides, his enthusiasm was infectious. “Alright, I’ll do it,” I told him, and he looked genuinely pleased.
Back at my apartment that night, I told Terri, my roommate, about my weird interview. She too thought he sounded like just another nut case. When I told her that I had accepted his invitation to tag along with him the next night, she just rolled her eyes. “Come on, Elle,” she said, “can’t you find a normal guy to go out with?”
I laughed, but her words stung a little. I’d had a few unfortunate encounters, and Terri knew I was gun-shy. Of course, Terri considered herself more like my guardian angel than an apartment-mate, but I appreciated her watching out for me.
Not surprisingly, I was a little apprehensive the next night when my cab dropped me off at the bar where I was supposed to meet Alex. I had no idea what to expect and the fact that Alex was nowhere in sight didn’t make me feel any better.
But suddenly I heard my named being called, and when I turned around, there was Alex in his Superman suit bounding down the sidewalk toward me. “This is going to be fun,” he said with a confident smile, and, taking my hand as though it was the most natural thing in the world, he led me inside.
The moment we passed through the door, I heard the tone of the background noise change. People were pointing and talking, and I began to feel very self-conscious. But Alex plunged right into the crowd, taking me with him right up to the bar.
The bartender spotted Alex and called out in a loud voice, “Superman is in the house.” Immediately, the room was filled with cheers and applause, and the level of excitement seemed to increase. After checking with me, Alex ordered me a glass of white wine, and I was interested to see that he really did get a club soda for himself.
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