▸ Column · Modern Gotham gothic noir
BATMAN replies.
The letter
For three weeks my boyfriend Derek has answered every question I ask with "that's classified" in a gravelly, spy-movie growl, and nothing breaks him. What's for dinner? Classified. Did you move the car? Classified. When he stubbed his toe so hard he had to sit on the floor and asked if he was okay — still classified, through actual tears. His delivery keeps getting better, and twice I've cracked up when I needed to stay mad. I love that he's funny. But we have a joint dentist appointment to reschedule and I need a real answer about his Tuesday availability before the slot is gone for good.
Batman replies
Three weeks is not a joke. It is a position. A man who denies every question — even through pain, even on the floor — has found a wall he likes living behind. I know that wall. I built one. Alfred fed me dry answers for twenty years, and it was never because he had nothing to say.
So understand the mechanism. The laugh is his supply line. Every time you crack, you resupply the bit. Cut it off. Stop offering open questions he can turn into theater.
Give him a binary instead. "Tuesday. Free or not. The slot closes at noon." No room to perform. A yes or a no, with a deadline attached.
Then prepare for the no. Reschedule the appointment yourself. Hold the slot. Do not let two people's teeth hostage to one man's routine. Contingency is not coldness. It is how you keep the small things from rotting.
The humor is good cover. I respect cover. Just be certain that is all it is — that he is hiding a punchline back there, and not the answer to "are you okay." Watch which one he keeps classified longest.
— Batman
Catwoman weighs in
Bruce. Sugar. You just turned "what's for dinner" into a hostage negotiation with a noon deadline. Listen to yourself — a man who growls everything in gravel and won't say how he feels when he's hurt? I dated that. I have the claw marks of patience to prove it.
Here's the leverage you're missing: you already hold it. He's doing the bit for your laugh. So make the laugh the price. "You get the next one when I get my Tuesday." He'll fold — that mouth wants an audience more than it wants the secret.
Then book the dentist yourself and kiss the idiot. Not every wall needs storming, handsome. Some of them just want you to knock.
— Catwoman
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