Some time ago—never mind how long precisely—despite having money
in my purse, and enough things in particular to interest me IRL, I
thought I would sail about a little and see the Redditry part of the
world....

A story about how I got White-Whaled:

For two or three years I lived in Salt Lake City, Utah.There was a Borders
Bookstore downtown that had a really wonderful collection of foreign
literature, especially French and German. I was there one night, and had
pulled a copy of Tous Les Matins du Monde. A woman who happened to be
there, and had noticed the title when I set the book aside, asked if I
had seen the movie. I told her I had, but that it was time for me to
read the book. In any case, we ended up having the best conversation --
funny, flirty, erudite -- a great time, really.

I asked her out, and we made plans for the coming Saturday, which was
three days away. The next night I called her to say hello and talk some
more. Again, we were having a great time, but there was a bit of a
problem with the phone line: It would cut out every so often, so
certain words from the conversation went missing. It was happening on
both our ends, but it wasn't too bad, so we just kept going.

At one point she said: "So what are you up to besides talking to me?".

I answered: "Not much, just playing around, reading Moby Dick."

Silence...silence...silence...

I: Are you still there?

She: Yes

I: Is everything OK?

She: Yes

The yeses were cold, distant, and bordered on hostile.

In any case, I tried getting the conversation back on track...but nothing...So I just wished her a good night, and we hung up.

I had no idea what the hell just happened.

Somewhere in the middle of the next day it hit me: the occasional cutting out of
the words on the phone (which we had actually stopped noticing, because
we were having so much fun): She must have thought I said "...just
playing around with my dick.". SHE DIDN'T HEAR ALL THE WORDS!!

I was mortified. No Fucking way -- This isn't happening.

My impulse was to call her back and explain what had happened. But I
figured that she was just going to think I was back-pedaling, and trying
to make an excuse by coming up with some likely story.

I let it go. It goes without saying that we did not go out on Saturday.

So now, when a miscommunication of this general nature happens -- or any
miscommunication, for that matter, that causes things to go South -- I
call it getting "White-Whaled".

I guess the female version of that would be "getting Moby-Dicked"?

So, shall we board our particular Pequod, and see what interesting
White-Whales and Moby-Dicks WE can generate? Shall we see what the mad,
obsessed captain has planned for US?

How about telling me a story about how YOU got Moby-Dicked? Or maybe share
an opening line from a favorite piece of literature. Or, how about just
saying hello, and we can take it from there?

Me