We tend to spend a lot of time trying to appear different (read more confident/sopisticated/intelligent/stylish, etc) than we are, but I am always amazed how we give ourselves away and expose our inner selves with almost every thing we say and do. Our whole life can be read on our faces and heard in the sound of our voice- nevermind the words. Our inexperience, pain, anger, hopelessness- it's all there to see. We hide nothing, but pretend no one can see our regal nakedness.
So, a note to the doofus stting across from me at the diner; SHUT UP! She likes you- really likes you. It's obvious from her body language; leaning in, repeatedly matching your body postition, playing with her hair- she is even doing that thing where she puts her glass next to yours when you put it back after drinking. But, as you keep droning in and on about YOU, I can see a steady decline in her interest. Dude, she seems nice and it's obvious she wants you to succeed. Hell, I want you succeed. Unfortunately, right now you are sucking seed. Don't blow it, it's only a coffee date; surely you can be suave for 20 minutes?
Sigh.
Sent from my HTC PURGATORY™, a Windows® phone from ATAT
The Inn of Infinite Sadness, or alternatively, Smudge and Hobbes' Traumatising Transcendental Transatlantic Trip. Being the adventures of two very large, unwillingly peripatetic, half-Bengal cats and their owner (of rather similar description) as they prepare to leave the North American continent in search of a new life in their (the cats, not the owner) ancestral homeland of Aneda. Sigh, what I won't do for a decent cup of tea.
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