Picture this: me, sitting in an Italian restaurant with mediocre ravioli, listening to this guy (who is sunburnt to a bright red crisp and has an extremely swollen hand… three times the size it should be… he’s allergic to mosquitoes, apparently) talk AT me for TWO AND A HALF hours. I probably said about four sentences the entire time, and every time I opened my mouth, his eyes glazed over as if he couldn’t even pretend to be interested. He talked about everything from his new sailing hobby (he needed a hobby because a job interviewer asked him his hobbies and he had no good answer), to his middle school campaigns for student body president, to his love for Donald Trump, to him him arguing at me about politics… to me asking him to stop arguing at me, because I just met him a half hour ago and “really can’t handle it”. (His response: a huffy and puffy “well, what would YOU like to talk about then?”)
You can’t make this shit up. Men amaze me, in the worst way.
I could go on and describe the rest of this date in detail, but just know that after the date, I practically ran to my friend’s apartment, where we wallowed in our dating sorrows together. The next day, I had three more of my girlfriends over, and we practiced a similar ritual. Are all guys like this?