Radar was on his way to work when I was on my way back from the book store. We chatted for a brief few minutes about nothing of importance. Then he made a comment about the blog. Seems to me, whenever someone informs me they've been reading my stuff, a new level of uncomfortable is reached.
"...it's like you're having an intimate conversation. But that's like the stuff you should be having with your girlfriends."
Me-: "I don't have women friends. Not anymore, been stabbed in the back too many times over the decades."
Radar-: "What?" he shrugged tossing out his cigarette butt "How can you not have girlfriends?"
Me-:"I just stopped bothering to even try. Besides kiddo" {he stiffened and did not like me calling him that by the way} "when you have girl talk with a woman, you don't get any results. Just more talk."
Radar-: "Um. What?" {he started to head into the gas station for another pack of smokes}
Me-: "If we're all talking about the same thing, with each other, women I mean; then all we've got are questions without answers, confusion, what ifs, and more questions. And we end up as clueless as we started. Just more sappy. I want answers, results, therefore, having the girl talk with boys makes more sense."
Radar-: "How's that working for you? How's that working for me?" {he laughed a nervous laugh opening the pack of cigarettes} "Is this going to end up in the blog? You need some more photos on it or something. Make it more interesting to look at."
Me-: "I'll look into that. The photos I mean."
{At that point, Fanny who works at the bank came up to bum a cigarette off of Radar. I sort of got shuffled out of the conversation}
No comments:
Post a Comment