I have faults. I’m, uh… easily mesmerized by people who use multi-syllabled words and, um, men who can discuss Tolstoy. Diane Lockhart, Good Wife.
Maybe you have been somewhere and you observed a couple on a date. You have recognized it is going badly. He’s having a great time and she’s wishing she could be having a pap smear.
While in line for the women’s washroom, wishing the line were ever so much longer, I realized that I was that woman.
Worse still, I did this to myself.
I can’t tell on first dates. I can usually tell by the second date. The date tonight was supposed to be a second date, but there was an unplanned sushi date on Thursday. I knew at the end of Thursday’s date that he was a non starter.
The plans were made, the tickets had been bought. It seemed kindest to just go and end things with a nice text on Monday.
So, he had a great time. I was thankful that you can’t talk during a play. I’m sitting in my backyard, drinking wine.
When I left Owen, I did so knowing that I would be happier alone. I knew how painfully lonely I could be while still married. It wasn’t that I didn’t expect to be lonely while single, it was that it would at least be a more understandable sort of lonely.
I am, therefore, a bit of a snob. I don’t care if you haven’t ever seen Shakespeare. There’s tons of stuff that I haven’t seen. Admit it. Or be silent. You give yourself away when you call Romeo and Juliet a Comedy.
Maybe I find a guy who uses multi-syllabled words and can discuss Shakespeare. It isn’t this guy.