I am on a date with Tara. Some people do not have much to say, so they just talk about themselves, and I can clearly see Tara is that kind of person. And when she is not talking about herself, she is talking about something so insignificant, inconsequential, or boring, that it turns out even worse. She is not a bad person, she is just extremely dull.
I know saying that does not make me look good. I mean, who am I to judge another person? But guess what, I am the same. I want to talk about myself and I want to talk about insignificant shit, and she is taking that time away from me. I am too polite to interrupt.
So we sit. A romantic restaurant, the light reflects so nicely off of her long earrings, her dark eyes shine so strong. She is a goddess to look at, and her voice is beautiful, but it is still a chore to listen to her. So we sit at our fiftieth-or-so date and I am pondering the future of our relationship.
And then she dives into a tirade about the drapes or the crepes, or something else of no consequence. I imagine a dark place where she does not exist. It is a safe and cozy place.
“No,” I say all of a sudden and I get up. Her eyes become as big as the orbit of Saturn.