I talk a lot, loud and often. (To those of you that know me–stop nodding so vigorously. I can practically feel your agreement through the computer screen.) However, when I am on a date I try very hard to talk a little less and listen to the man sitting opposite me because I possess a modicum of manners. (But only a modicum.)
Unless I’m on a ventriloquist date. It’s the kind of outing when the person sitting opposite you doesn’t feel compelled to talk all that much or at all. I thought I was being asked out on a date where there’d be actual back and forth. Apparently, he thought he’d be attending a one woman show.
This is the sort of date that is more likely to result from meeting online as opposed to meeting at a bar or party since I am able to smoke out the shy, dull and uncommunicative types in person and take my leave of them.
However when I do find myself in these silent and deadly situations, I feel compelled to talk for me and for him because quiet gives me gas. It’s as though he’s a dummy and I’m his ventriloquist with a hand up his shirt.
Except that I don’t have a hand up his shirt and in all likelihood, never will because nothing is a bigger turn off than a guy who doesn’t have much to say for himself.