I tend to leave out words when I talk. I forget the other person hasn’t been in my brain, listening to my internal conversation…and so don’t even realize there are holes in my verbal responses.
Generally, this isn’t much of a problem. My friends know that for every sentence, I have about four supporting statements I didn’t get around to mentioning. They patiently wait for the rest of the explanation, or just ask me directly. The ones who know me really well can fill in most blanks on their own.
But skipping words isn’t excellent when trying to get to know someone new. Especially on a date. So I try to give at least a little more information than I normally would feel comfortable with.
Unless, of course, I’m not interested. Then I get a strange sense of satisfaction in short, closed-end statements. It’s not that I lie (exactly)…it’s more that I don’t share any additional thoughts.
Examples [with select omissions added in italics]:
Nope, I don’t play sports. [Actually, I didn't play traditional sports as a kid. And so am not that willing to start now. But I understand the rules of nearly everything and LOVE watching/going to college & pro games. I'd probably even enjoy watching you attempt to be an intramural stud.]
Umm…I’m not into camping. [I don't have fancy camping gear, despite growing up in the shadow of the REI climbing wall. Plus, it rains every time I've gone. EVERY time. Please show off your manliness and take me camping - somewhere sunny!]
Road trips? Really?? [How often do you feel the need to stop for gas, snacks, or to check the tire pressure? Because I love driving, and road trips. But if you pull over every 30 minutes I'll get highly annoyed. And FYI - if it comes out that you can't drive a stick shift, I'll think you're a sissy...and won't be able to hide it.] (Hmm…ok. So the additional thoughts don’t really help my case here, but still. See why I avoid adding info?)
I’m not sure I want kids. [Unless I'm half of a fulfilling and amazing relationship, and therefore we can share in the experience together. Then I for sure will want them.]
Hmm. Snow is awfully cold. [And I either a.) don't know where my ski outfit is, b.) am not sure it fits me, or c.) won't have time to buy new stuff before your proposed excursion. So I'm going to stall and make it seem like I need to be talked into skiing and wearing silly hats and snuggling on the ski lift.]
My favorite, and perhaps most subtle, “don’t bother dating me” one-liner centers on the kitchen.
We all know the drill: Somewhere around the second mid-length conversation, the topic of food comes up. Do you like sushi? Are you, or were you ever, a vegetarian? What’s your favorite steakhouse? Pizza toppings? Do you drink coffee, tea, or soda in the morning? Prefer 2% or skim milk?
Possibly it’s research for subsequent date ideas. Possibly we’re just running out of things to talk about. Inevitably, though, the “do you like to cook?” question gets put on the table.
And our conversation will go something like this:
“Well. Actually, I don’t cook,” I say.
“Really? You can’t cook?” he asks, trying not to look disappointed.
“Oh no. It’s not that I can’t cook. I can; it’s just that I choose not to,” I reiterate. Sometimes I smile to soften the statement…hinting that the right person might be able to sway me. But more often than not, I just let it hang there.
Either way, we’ll both pause for a beat, locked in a game of mental chicken. He wants to know if I’m serious. I want to know if he’ll be cool with thai takeout on my nights to cook.
I’ll hold the silence just long enough for him to know I won’t be apologizing, nor explaining further. At which point he’ll either (a.) start telling me about how much he likes to cook…thereby assuring me that our long-term potential has not yet been fully compromised, (b.) ask why…subtly trying to figure out if I’m a high-maintenance diva/bitch that will refuse any sort of domestic responsibility, or (c.) change the subject…because he really isn’t that interested, either.
Whatever his response, I’ll continue on to the next conversation thread. All the while thinking about how I’ve invited about 15 people over for brunch on Sunday. And about how I need to figure out a menu…
Every day another story -
Sofie
