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I wish I had a pocket recorder...
Jul. 23rd, 2006 07:54 pmso I could transcribe accurately conversations like the one I just had at the bar. The following is as close as I can dredge from my faulty memory...
I'm sitting at the bar, reading Newsweek and waiting for the bartender to bring me my dinner. A guy walks up, and sits down on my right. Quick glance in the mirror--average appearance, reddish-blonde, maybe a couple extra pounds but nothing really outstanding good or bad. I go back to reading. And continued keeping my attention primarily on my magazine through the following:
"Hi. Where are you from?"
"Here."
"Here? You're in the bar all the time?"
"Frequently."
"I'm Carmen"
"Jes"
"So really, where are you from?"
"I live in town."
"So are you going to talk to me, or just read your magazine?"
"I'm just here for dinner. I'm not really interested in talking to anyone."
"Well that's just mean."
"Really? I thought it was honest. Would you rather I lead you on and then just leave when I finish my dinner?"
"You little shit."
At which point he stands up and walks off, and I return to my reading...but can hear him telling someone else down that "the cold witch at the end of the bar just totally shot him down."
About 3 minutes later, someone else comes and sits on the stool. I glance over, it's a guy who'd been sitting further down a bit ago. He smiles at me, orders a drink, and sits quietly. Yay! Dinner in peace! Until the stool the other side of me empties, and Carmen comes back...
"Are you sure you don't want to talk to me? Because I'd really like to talk to you."
"Sorry, but I'm just not interested."
"Won't you even tell me your name?"
"I already did."
"Can you tell me again?"
"Look. I'm really not interested in talking to you. Sorry."
"Why not?"
Sigh. "I told you already that I'm not interested in talking to anybody. I'm TRYING to eat my dinner. And you calling me a 'little shit' when I explained that earlier just cements the impression that I won't be interested in talking to you in particular even after I'm done with dinner."
So Carmen lamely tries to explain that "little shit" wasn't supposed to be insulting, it was supposed to be cute; when I told him that I didn't find it cute, he apologized and wanted to know why I didn't want to talk to him...
Rest of the conversation was fairly repetitious, but did include a lovely sermon on how I should be more open-minded and less mean. Oh, and I got called "a little turd." Anyway, basically ended it with "I've already told you that I'm not interested in talking to you. Why are you still talking?"
Which, thankfully, caused him to swallow whatever words were coming next and leave.
Shortly thereafter, the guy to the other side of me stood up, said "I have to leave now. If he comes back and sits here, I'm really sorry." Which earned him a smile and hell--if HE ever sits down and talks to me I'll probably talk back. :)
I'm sitting at the bar, reading Newsweek and waiting for the bartender to bring me my dinner. A guy walks up, and sits down on my right. Quick glance in the mirror--average appearance, reddish-blonde, maybe a couple extra pounds but nothing really outstanding good or bad. I go back to reading. And continued keeping my attention primarily on my magazine through the following:
"Hi. Where are you from?"
"Here."
"Here? You're in the bar all the time?"
"Frequently."
"I'm Carmen"
"Jes"
"So really, where are you from?"
"I live in town."
"So are you going to talk to me, or just read your magazine?"
"I'm just here for dinner. I'm not really interested in talking to anyone."
"Well that's just mean."
"Really? I thought it was honest. Would you rather I lead you on and then just leave when I finish my dinner?"
"You little shit."
At which point he stands up and walks off, and I return to my reading...but can hear him telling someone else down that "the cold witch at the end of the bar just totally shot him down."
About 3 minutes later, someone else comes and sits on the stool. I glance over, it's a guy who'd been sitting further down a bit ago. He smiles at me, orders a drink, and sits quietly. Yay! Dinner in peace! Until the stool the other side of me empties, and Carmen comes back...
"Are you sure you don't want to talk to me? Because I'd really like to talk to you."
"Sorry, but I'm just not interested."
"Won't you even tell me your name?"
"I already did."
"Can you tell me again?"
"Look. I'm really not interested in talking to you. Sorry."
"Why not?"
Sigh. "I told you already that I'm not interested in talking to anybody. I'm TRYING to eat my dinner. And you calling me a 'little shit' when I explained that earlier just cements the impression that I won't be interested in talking to you in particular even after I'm done with dinner."
So Carmen lamely tries to explain that "little shit" wasn't supposed to be insulting, it was supposed to be cute; when I told him that I didn't find it cute, he apologized and wanted to know why I didn't want to talk to him...
Rest of the conversation was fairly repetitious, but did include a lovely sermon on how I should be more open-minded and less mean. Oh, and I got called "a little turd." Anyway, basically ended it with "I've already told you that I'm not interested in talking to you. Why are you still talking?"
Which, thankfully, caused him to swallow whatever words were coming next and leave.
Shortly thereafter, the guy to the other side of me stood up, said "I have to leave now. If he comes back and sits here, I'm really sorry." Which earned him a smile and hell--if HE ever sits down and talks to me I'll probably talk back. :)
