Did you ever go on a date with someone you were totally enamoured with and thought through the whole date, “what’s the ONE THING I can say to convince this person that I am Relationship Material”? I did. And inevitably, I ended up saying something like “Fascism is really, like, bad, right? Because they make everyone wear, like, brown, and stuff. Not like bad fashion is the worst thing fascism has going for it, or anything, because there’s at least a dozen things wrong with fascism, but I wouldn’t want to live under a totalitarian dictator. I don’t mean, like *literally* under a totalitarian dictator; I mean *figuratively*. But now that I think about it, it *would* be kind of cool to be the person who rents the basement suite under Stalin’s apartment, or the first-floor tenant in Mussolini’s two-storey building, you know? You’d be walking to the laundry room thinking, ‘PLEASE don’t let anyone else be doing laundry’, and there Stalin would be, in his skivvies and his sock-suspenders, reading some manifesto and waiting for his shirts to be dry. And you’d have this awkward laundry-room moment, and then he’d lower his manifesto and stare at you with those black-button eyes, and you’d be all, ‘prick’. That would actually be kind of sweet.”
And then your date stares at you like you have just held up a sign that says: “I am a carrier of the bubonic plague, tuberculosis, and herpes”, and you realise that you should just never try to be clever. Or at least, you should never try to be more clever than you really are. Which is just a terribly long-winded way of saying don’t be a dildo; just be who you are.
9 responses to “One persun’s Uncomfortable Silence is another persun’s Golden Meditation”
When it comes to potential relationships, it’s not what you say but how you say it that counts.
It’s ALL how you say it. People don’t even hear what the other person says half the time. Everything is unconscious signals and unspoken yada yada.
How you smell matters vastly more.
However, I would have been utterly charmed by this little monologue. That’s me, though.
Wanna make out!!??
I like dildos…correction, I LOVE dildos. So, if someone called me a dildo I would be quite pleased.
However, a few years ago while trying to convince someone to play with me and my dildo, I started rambling on about head injuries and lucid dreaming and I am sure I was called a Conservative.
That made me laugh really, really hard.
Conservative.
For me the much more frustrating thing was being on a date, with a willing partner and not having the guts to make “the move” in fear that I would come on too strong and have it all go to shit. Invariably talking to the person on later dates or in friendship it would come out that had I made “any move” it would have been pleasantly received.
This is likely why I still really prefer straight-forward people. I have always said the best way to get a hint across to me is to wrap it around a brick and hurl it at me.
LOL
I’d think I was doing damn good if I was out on a first date, besmitten, and could come up with a monologue as entertaining as this one instead of tripping all over my tongue!
Whoa. Slow down, cowboy.
Are you seriously going to diss the SS’ fashion sense? Those guys were total badasses because of the cut of their uniforms… and, okay, the whole genocidal fascist thing helped.
I didn’t diss anyone’s fashion sense. I said Stalin would be sitting in his skivvies and sock suspenders waiting for his shirts to dry. Stalin’s troops weren’t part of the SS, as far as I recall. Nor were Mussolini’s brownshirts. The SS was solid in grey and black, I believe.
ZAMORA