18 May 2010
The Lost Art of Conversation
The week began well. A man expressed interest- well, actually many did but I just rejected most of them- and I thought there was some potential here even if he did name himself after a popular chocolate dessert, about which I had my reservations- let's just call him Mr.Fudge shall we. I mean, doesn't it make you wonder? I was feeling generous and considerate, however, and sweeping my reservations aside I accepted. I wrote back enthusiastically, sharing my number and saying how happy I would be to talk with him and he was therefore welcome to call at a convenient moment. I had decided that I had been much too picky in rejecting, or rather accepting, interests and I should give some of these men a chance.
All to no avail! I didn't hear from Mr. Fudge and couldn't help but wonder why this was so. Maybe it's me, but wouldn't you expect that if you've sent someone a message and they've replied the natural thing would then be to respond to that reply- that is how conversation works to the best of my knowledge. Clearly I was missing something- there was nothing but a deafening silence from the other end. Just when I'd written off Mr. Fudge, the man decided to surprise me and sent me a message with words to this effect 'I sent you an interest some time back and you accepted but have not got in touch. If you are not serious then do not waste my time.' Oh dear, oh dear- this person was serious, seriously angry. I stared at this message (you will notice from earlier posts that this is a bit of a theme with me, the staring that is), sort of spluttering indignantly; but good sense prevailed and giving him the benefit of doubt I decided, rather considerately in my opinion, to reply to his missive yet again. In what I thought to be rather a sweet tone I wrote,"We seem to have our wires crossed. I do recall replying, sharing my number and requesting you to call although you may have missed that message. No matter, here is my number again and I look forward to hearing from you." (Could I have been nicer?!)
This time I was in luck- I had a text message on my phone within half-an-hour although I did have some trouble figuring quite what to do about it. It started with "Hi S"... and ended with that as well. I stared (yes, yes, again!) and then rudely, as I tend to do, replied with "Who is this?" This was followed by the enlightening reply- "Mr.Fudge"- yes, just that. What on earth was I supposed to do with these with these virtually monosyllabic messages?! I tried again, sending a message with not one, but two whole sentences, asking about him etc.etc.- and what I got by return post was this, "I am busy now we will talk later"- how endearingly authoritative! Alright, I thought, we'll play by your rules Mr.Fudge.
Given that this brief exchange was followed by a continuation of the earlier silence I wondered how many interests Mr. Fudge had sent and whether the sheer volume meant that he could only get around to all of them in rotation. When there was no further word for a few days I decided to give it one last try and sent him a message asking whether he was at all interested in talking, to which he replied saying that he would be in touch later that day and had been busy with work and a family wedding- fair enough but I was losing patience, however sweet fudge might actually be! Later that night, close to 11 pm, when my aging eyes (and the rest of me) were shutting down for the day and wandering into oblivion, I got a message saying "Hi S'" (yes again, I think he saved this for special occasions just changing the name as required). I replied suggesting that we talk- now that I had been jolted awake by this unexpected message. But no such luck (and I use the word advisedly!)- Mr. Fudge was too busy to talk but did think he should 'touch base' with me, at which point the only thing that came to my mind was, "yea right, you ain't touching anything mistah!" Belying my growing impatience I did respond to the questions he put to me and asked some of my own; where did he work; where did he live; what did he do? You get the drift- this was exciting stuff made all the more so by his insistence on referring to me as, get this, 'Baby', 'Darling' and other such endearments. I did point out that I was not his- or anyone's for that matter- baby but it seemed to be lost on him. I, and my sore thumbs, were soon worn out by this and I'm don't know how we endured it for all of 15 minutes. At this point I suggested that we have a 'live conversation' where we could actually speak words to one another when he had the time, as opposed to this ridiculously meaningless texting and said I would wait to hear from him.
It's just as well I didn't wait with bated breath as I would have been asphyxiated in the process; the next I heard from him was about five months later when he sent me a message saying I had accepted his interest but had not bothered to be in touch or share my contact details. The sheer gall of the man! I can tell you I saw red and I dashed of a message, dripping with venom (although I wonder whether he realised that), saying that we had in fact texted, the ball had been in his court and he had quite clearly... lost it! This conversation was officially at an end.