Jul. 13th, 2003 02:43 am
And the sap of the year award goes to...
I've just got home. I accompanied an extremely nice young lady. For the second time, mind you. She doesn't remember the first. She's a friend of my friend Matt's fiancée and, to put it mildly, she's gorgeous. So, of course, when asked if I'd make sure she got home, I leapt at the idea like a hungry rottweiler at a toddler.
I got her to the best place in Wigan to hail a taxi. At this point she began to talk of her boyfriend incessantly. Is this a reflex? Is there some instinct in women that says "don't talk about your boyfriend, or even the possibility that you might have one, until you've scored a lift home, and from that point on, talk of nothing else."? If so, I think it's extremely unfair and I'd rather like some compensation.
I dropped her off at her house, which was ridiculously posh, only heightening my frustration.
I think I'm just going to give up. It would seem to be the path of least resistance at this point. Why bother? If I want to be shat upon from a great height, I'll just go to Blackpool and wait for an obliging seagull.
*grump*
I got her to the best place in Wigan to hail a taxi. At this point she began to talk of her boyfriend incessantly. Is this a reflex? Is there some instinct in women that says "don't talk about your boyfriend, or even the possibility that you might have one, until you've scored a lift home, and from that point on, talk of nothing else."? If so, I think it's extremely unfair and I'd rather like some compensation.
I dropped her off at her house, which was ridiculously posh, only heightening my frustration.
I think I'm just going to give up. It would seem to be the path of least resistance at this point. Why bother? If I want to be shat upon from a great height, I'll just go to Blackpool and wait for an obliging seagull.
*grump*