The Conversation

I was walking into a store this morning when I passed a presumably attractive young woman as she was getting out of her car. I say presumably because although a quick glance was cast in her direction, I most certainly did not check her out*, because I am a married man who does not subscribe to that sort of lecherous behavior**.

*Also, because I had switched out my sunglasses for my regular glasses before exiting the car, and it was so bright out that I couldn’t see much of anything anyway. The truth sounds considerably less noble, doesn’t it?

**When I typed “behavior” the first time, I accidentally spelled it with a “u”: behaviour. I felt quite British, and to be honest, a little dangerous, for a moment there.

After that cursory glance, I continued on my way to the crosswalk, which I hate because it’s like nine miles long. You can start running across when the coast is clear and still get hit by a car before reaching the other side. I wish I could just get in my car and drive from one side to the other, but I can’t because then I would have to park the car on the sidewalk, and with my luck, there’d be a ticket when I got back even though I was just running inside for five freakin’ minutes.

But I digress.

I was about halfway across the crosswalk, about to stop off for a drink of water and maybe a snack before continuing my hike, when all of a sudden, the presumably attractive young woman began speaking to me*.

*I’m pretty sure she didn’t have one of those Bluetooths in her ear. I hate those things. They’re evil. Although the presence of one here would certainly make this story better.

“It’s SO WINDY OUT,” she said. “I HATE when it’s windy out.”

As anyone who knows me can imagine, this took several seconds to process. My conversation skills are bad enough when I’m expecting someone to speak to me; a presumably attractive young woman attacking me verbally from behind with small talk was just unfair.

Once those several seconds had passed, I decided to add to the impromptu conversation by saying the first thing that came to mind.

“Yeah.”

In retrospect, the look on her windblown-hair-surrounded face was priceless, a combination of “Is that it?” and “How exactly do you expect me to respond to that?” She regrouped fairly quickly though, smiled, and proceeded to her destination without another word. And after a few minutes of kicking myself for my brain freeze, I realized something: I still had a wife to go home to, someone who knows and appreciates my inability to carry on a conversation consisting of more than three turns with any degree of consistency. So I’ve got that going for me.*

But clearly, if she ever kicks me to the curb (or, as I like to say, when), I’m in trouble.

*Of course, this is the same woman who just told me that instead of buying a Christmas tree this year, we should just bring up the small artificial tree and “spray some Pine-Sol.” The lesson, as always, kids, is this: be careful who you meet on the internet.