An imaginary conversation about compliments

So the other night, this guy told me he likes me because our conversations are random and weird.

Oh, I’m sorry!

Why? It was a great compliment.

It was?

Sometimes I don’t think you know me at all…

You do say weird things a lot.

Right. And it’s one of my charms.

It is?

IT’S ONE OF MY CHARMS. And he said likes me because I’m weird and random. Not in spite of it.

I always look forward to hearing what your next odd idea is too.

That didn’t sound very sincere.

You know I love that you’re a weirdo.

That’s better, and don’t roll your eyes at me.

I can’t help it.

Is it genetic?

You know what I mean.

True.

So when did you meet this guy?

I haven’t.

What do you mean you haven’t?

I haven’t met him.

Did you imagine a conversation with him?

No, but if I had then I could write an imaginary conversation about actually having an imaginary conversation and my blog would explode or something.

Focus.

What?

So how were you talking to him if you haven’t met?

We met online. We’ve been texting.

Oh, God.

What?

You shouldn’t text people you don’t know. There’s no telling what you’ll say.

I know! It’s great!  Why are you looking at me like that?

Why is it great?

Because you know what I’m like in person…

Smart?

No…I mean, yeah…but no…

Funny?

Funnier than you are..

Probably. What were we talking about again?

That I’m weird in person, and not necessarily in a good way like when I text.

Oh, you’re probably the same both in person and in texts.

Really? Shit.

OK, Miss Consistent..why are you good weird when you text and bad weird in person?

Because.

Ah. Well. I can’t argue with that!

You can’t? Damn.

Weirdo.

Because in person I’m just awkward and silent. In writing, there are always words, at least.

See? I knew you could use your words.

Not very well in person. I’m a dork in person.

You’re a dork when you text, too. In a good way.

You’re just humoring me.

You’re a lot of work, you know.

I know. You’re a good sport about it.

I was kidding.

No you weren’t, but thanks for saying so.

You didn’t tell him about blow jobs did you?

Uh..why was that the first thing you thought I’d talk about?

You did, didn’t you? Are you nuts?

It’s endearing.

It’s crazy. Talking about blow jobs is not endearing. You can’t just tell random strangers about how you feel about sex.

I like sex.

Of course you do. Everyone does. You just can’t talk about it when you haven’t met someone before.

Why not?

Because.

That’s not a good reason. There’s nothing wrong with blowjobs.

No, obviously I’m a fan.

So, why can’t I have a conversation about it? It’s not like I walk up to random people on the street and tell them I swallow.

It’s a social convention.

That’s silly, what is it 1802 or something?

It gives people the wrong idea about you.

No, actually it gives them the right idea.

I’m not sure you understand how talking to men works.

I’m pretty sure I do.

But that isn’t the part of the man you want to stimulate before you’ve even met.

The brain part?

You’ve met men before.

Yes. Oh, you mean that men think with their dicks?

No. But they don’t need to be reminded of sex every minute. They’ll think about it plenty on their own. Maybe you should try to engage their brains before you go straight for the genitals.

I’ll text him back and tell him I don’t really swallow. I’m really a spitter. I worship at the altar of  the rag of redemption.

The what?

The rag of redemption. It’s what non-swallowers spit into..

Why do I feel like that’s a whole story?

Because it’s a whole story. A funny one.

Do not tell the guy you’ve never met that story.

Well I have to if I’m going to explain my change of heart about swallowing.

Just. No. Seriously.

You’re so easy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

%d bloggers like this: