I've tried to make great progress in not being an arrogant judgmental prick the last couple years, and I think I've done fairly well; even to the point where for the most part, I don't even think some of the things I used to much less say them. My progress suffered a severe setback this evening though and the thought-dam burst was devastating....washing out everything in its path. After a less than successful day back to work after a nearly two-week break over the holidays, I needed to get out of the house. If it hadn't been dark and 20 degrees, a quick bike ride or a run with the dog would've been in order, but tonight I opted to grab a book I've been trying (unsuccessfully) to read and head to the coffee shop (or to Bread Co. which passes for "the coffee shop" here). I got a half hour of distracted half-hearted reading in before this young couple sat down two tables over. I'd already sized them up before they sat down and made many assumptions about their character which only proved to be truer as the minutes racked up.
I put them about early-mid 20's, dating, not living together and at some point in a taking or in-between community college classes state. But that's irrelevant. Normally most conversations in restaurants or other public spaces are white noise to me but for some reason, perhaps the volume at which the girl was speaking; as if to say "listen to me...what I have to say is of critical importance to our relationship so I'm going to say it very loudly and punctuate my sentences liberally with 'OK', 'ya know' and 'like'".
They hadn't even gotten their food set firmly on the table before she started talking. The guy hadn't even gotten his jacket half unzipped. At least let a man take his coat and hat off, sit down and get his chair in before you start yammering so he can focus on pretending to pay attention to what you're saying. The topic of this particular oral thesis was what she had to eat today. Being the beginning of a new year, she of course had made some unachievable dietary goal which was to be strictly adhered to at all costs and was to be the primary focus of their relationship until six weeks from now when she realizes she hasn't been sticking to it anyway and some new crisis will invariably trump this goal until the next time she sees a new diet book on Oprah or one of her friends reads a new food scare or diet trend on the internet. The goal was simple enough in theory: lose a few pounds through limiting calorie consumption. For a guy, this conversation would have gone something like "I'm 25 and have a beer gut...I need to quit eating bratwurst and pizza six times a week and remember what a carrot looks like. I have some really nice $200 running shoes I bought six months ago that I used once. Maybe I'll try going for a jog some day." And that would be it. End of topic and on to the next equally uninteresting story.
This girl wasn't going out like that though. She spent almost five solid minutes talking about how excited she was that she found her new "favorite" crappy snack food in 100 calorie packs and about how some other processed artificially sweetened not-even-real-food dessert item she adores only has 70 calories. Five minutes may not sound like a lot of time, but it was a freaking eternity, especially to her boyfriend I'm sure. This guy was a champ. He hung in there like a true veteran. I was so unbelievably aggravated by the pointless waste of oxygen and syllables taking place at this table, but I kept hanging on, hoping she'd redeem herself with something of the slightest interest or some insightful gem. Goose egg. My brief and short-lived sliver of optimism this conversation could be revived was squashed. She yammered on...and on...and on.... I found it nearly impossible to not deliver the irony to her that her achievement of limiting calories for the day, and likely for the next day as well, was erased by the bowl of broccoli cheese soup she was eating. My patience was further tested when she started moaning about the carbs in the bread bowl the soup came in. If you don't want the bread, just order it in a regular bowl. Sourdough is for eating, not aesthetics. Eating a meal with this girl has to be the most trying test of patience this guy has to endure each day. It's just soup, please just eat it and be quiet, it doesn't need to be talked about....it isn't that interesting. God forbid you come up with something curious to talk about or maybe even quit talking for 30 seconds so your boyfriend can chime in with something other than "uh huh". I'm sure you already told the same story to your twelve closest and equally uninteresting girlfriends today, so can you take a rest already and get on with life? Does every banal detail of your day have to be shared with all of us in a four table radius? I realize I'm in a public space and that comes with baggage I should be prepared and equipped to handle these aural affronts, but this non-conversation; perhaps moreso the fact that this same non-conversation likely takes place hundreds of thousands of times a day across the country...really irked me.
Maybe I've just been really good for a long time and needed a good session of mental judgement. Maybe I needed to practice my general dislike for a majority of the population to make sure I haven't lost my edge in case it's a skill I need at the end of days. Whatever the case, there was no action on my part to inform this girl of the degree to which I did not enjoy her storytelling. They finished their meal and headed out of the coffee shop, the girl still talking the whole way out the door. I went back to my book, trudged through a half page then got a coffee refill to go for the way home. Lesson learned, next time I'm headed to the library. I hear people read books there.
I put them about early-mid 20's, dating, not living together and at some point in a taking or in-between community college classes state. But that's irrelevant. Normally most conversations in restaurants or other public spaces are white noise to me but for some reason, perhaps the volume at which the girl was speaking; as if to say "listen to me...what I have to say is of critical importance to our relationship so I'm going to say it very loudly and punctuate my sentences liberally with 'OK', 'ya know' and 'like'".
They hadn't even gotten their food set firmly on the table before she started talking. The guy hadn't even gotten his jacket half unzipped. At least let a man take his coat and hat off, sit down and get his chair in before you start yammering so he can focus on pretending to pay attention to what you're saying. The topic of this particular oral thesis was what she had to eat today. Being the beginning of a new year, she of course had made some unachievable dietary goal which was to be strictly adhered to at all costs and was to be the primary focus of their relationship until six weeks from now when she realizes she hasn't been sticking to it anyway and some new crisis will invariably trump this goal until the next time she sees a new diet book on Oprah or one of her friends reads a new food scare or diet trend on the internet. The goal was simple enough in theory: lose a few pounds through limiting calorie consumption. For a guy, this conversation would have gone something like "I'm 25 and have a beer gut...I need to quit eating bratwurst and pizza six times a week and remember what a carrot looks like. I have some really nice $200 running shoes I bought six months ago that I used once. Maybe I'll try going for a jog some day." And that would be it. End of topic and on to the next equally uninteresting story.
This girl wasn't going out like that though. She spent almost five solid minutes talking about how excited she was that she found her new "favorite" crappy snack food in 100 calorie packs and about how some other processed artificially sweetened not-even-real-food dessert item she adores only has 70 calories. Five minutes may not sound like a lot of time, but it was a freaking eternity, especially to her boyfriend I'm sure. This guy was a champ. He hung in there like a true veteran. I was so unbelievably aggravated by the pointless waste of oxygen and syllables taking place at this table, but I kept hanging on, hoping she'd redeem herself with something of the slightest interest or some insightful gem. Goose egg. My brief and short-lived sliver of optimism this conversation could be revived was squashed. She yammered on...and on...and on.... I found it nearly impossible to not deliver the irony to her that her achievement of limiting calories for the day, and likely for the next day as well, was erased by the bowl of broccoli cheese soup she was eating. My patience was further tested when she started moaning about the carbs in the bread bowl the soup came in. If you don't want the bread, just order it in a regular bowl. Sourdough is for eating, not aesthetics. Eating a meal with this girl has to be the most trying test of patience this guy has to endure each day. It's just soup, please just eat it and be quiet, it doesn't need to be talked about....it isn't that interesting. God forbid you come up with something curious to talk about or maybe even quit talking for 30 seconds so your boyfriend can chime in with something other than "uh huh". I'm sure you already told the same story to your twelve closest and equally uninteresting girlfriends today, so can you take a rest already and get on with life? Does every banal detail of your day have to be shared with all of us in a four table radius? I realize I'm in a public space and that comes with baggage I should be prepared and equipped to handle these aural affronts, but this non-conversation; perhaps moreso the fact that this same non-conversation likely takes place hundreds of thousands of times a day across the country...really irked me.
Maybe I've just been really good for a long time and needed a good session of mental judgement. Maybe I needed to practice my general dislike for a majority of the population to make sure I haven't lost my edge in case it's a skill I need at the end of days. Whatever the case, there was no action on my part to inform this girl of the degree to which I did not enjoy her storytelling. They finished their meal and headed out of the coffee shop, the girl still talking the whole way out the door. I went back to my book, trudged through a half page then got a coffee refill to go for the way home. Lesson learned, next time I'm headed to the library. I hear people read books there.
1 comment:
Wow. Got some baggage from home, there, do ya?
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