Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Heating up leftovers

I went on a date or two with Surfer Dude about six months ago, but stopped seeing him when I started getting more serious with MML. A couple weeks ago, I ran into him while I was out with Girl Roommate. Surfer Dude is more than a foot taller than me with striking blue eyes and brown hair. He is both very laid-back and incredibly funny, and we had a great 'ol time hanging out. Over the next couple of weeks we talked on the phone a couple of times, and I laughed out loud at his stories about going hiking in Hawaii without shoes and breaking his toe (it was funny, although writing it now, it doesn't sound very funny), and the annual trip he takes with his buddies to various college towns on Halloween weekend. Even though our conversations were good, scheduling issues kept us from seeing each other again. Then on Monday, he called to see if I was free to go to the Coldplay concert on Tuesday night.

I was.

I've always taken on more than my share of responsibility for making conversation - on dates, in social business situations and otherwise. If the other person isn't holding up their end of the conversation, I automatically feel the need to compensate by asking a lot of questions and avoiding awkward silences by talking about anything and everything that comes to mind. If I'm honest with myself, this is probably my attempt to make other people feel comfortable, and therefore win their vote in my on-going campaign to be liked and accepted.

Well, it's exhausting and I'm done - with the campaign, and with forcing conversation on dates.

While Surfer Dude is funny and interesting, he isn't a "talker." So, on our way to the concert, I started making conversation out of habit. When I realized what I was doing, I tapered off and spoke only when I had something to say. I wasn't necessarily more quiet than I would be ordinarily, but I also didn't work overtime to fill the silences. After my initial discomfort passed, I was pleasantly surprised to find that when I shut up, Surfer Dude stepped it up a notch, asking questions and introducing me to some of his favorite artists. Phew.

The night only got better from there.

We people watched, ate soft pretzels that were simultaneously soggy and stale, sang along with Chris Martin at the top of our lungs, and ran through the pouring rain holding hands on the way back to his car. When we finally made it back to the car, dripping wet, he bundled me in his huge sweatshirt and kissed me.

Cheers to finally shutting up and discovering some absolutely delicious leftovers.

3 comments:

Your Ill-fitting Overcoat said...

What a lovely post. And a good lesson for all of us.

Anonymous said...

keep us updated:)

Jen said...

so cute! Yes, please keep us posted.