Apologies. This is just a quick post tonight as I have run out of time and, frankly, I need to go to bed. I had a post in my head but that will have to wait until tomorrow when I can do it justice.
I’m feeling a little lonely and down at the moment and whinging isn’t the done thing. Choir, where we’re practising opera choruses and Brahms waltz lieder, is guaranteed to cheer me up and lighten my mood and it’s just as well as I am feeling isolated and beleaguered. It’s a long story but I think everyone’s frustrations are backfiring directly or indirectly on me.
I quite like to go to the pub with other choir members but I’m quite introverted and shy – yes really – never believing that anyone really wants me around. Now of course, I know that this is massive overthinking on my part but there it is. So I’m reluctant to go to off to the pub – remember it’s getting into my car and actually going out of my way to be sociable – unless someone has directly said “Gita, are you coming to the pub?” Maybe I need things spelled out for me, just to be sure.
Of course, I’m always one of the first there and there’s never any social awkwardness on my part as I settle into conversation. It’s fine when it’s one of the women but I invariably sit next to a man and, generally, he talks AT me. I am polite, of course, and can come over as completely transfixed by his sparking conversation even when it lacks even the tiniest smidgen of lustre. What is it with these men that they feel entitled to have someone listen to them without having to do any real work? And where are all the charming men, the shimmering anecdotes, the tinkling of light hearted joshing?
It is in this way that I have passed several hours now, listening and nodding, listening and nodding and looking delighted at some of the dullest men on earth. Tonight was no exception: the brother of a choir member whom I barely know plonked himself down next to me, complete with Nordic walking sticks that he’d brought to choir, and told me all about his 150kg weight loss; his gastric sleeve operation; the after-effects of his gastric sleeve operation (in graphic detail); his psychiatrists; the Nordic languages he knows; modern music and 5 hour long Phillip Glass operas. Thank goodness that after a while his sister got up to go, taking him and his Nordic sticks with her. I seem to attract socially awkward men.
In the meantime, every week without fail, I look down to the other end of the table, to the cool guys who’ve arrived 25 minutes after me and they’re all having the most riveting conversation and throwing their heads back with laughter that doesn’t look fake. They’re all taking turns to talk and they all look like they’re enjoying the conversation. Every week I long to be down at that end of the table. Do you ever find yourself tuning in to the other end of the table, and longing to be there? That is me.
Oh dear Gita…I do wish I lived nearer …or vice versa
We would make our darn end of the table the place to be ……. and woe betide any of those selfish dullards, who suck the very life out of you ..they would get short shrift.
Hugs x.
What an excruciating evening, no wonder you don’t venture to the pub that often. One quick point, do any of these men ever ask your opinion on something, or listen to what you have to say? You do have a great deal to offer in any conversation and you are worth listening to. *Hugs*
The lesson here is: don’t arrive so early next time. Also, I hope no one from choir reads your blog!
Life is too short to be at the wrong end of the table. I agree with Lesley: go 25mins later. If you still end up at the ‘wrong end’, make your excuses – visit the loo – then find a way in to the ‘right end’. X
*grins* You’re all quite right!
Have sat at dinner parties while a man holds forth about his latest golf game or a surgeon about one of his life-saving feats in the operating theatre (not my husband, I hasten to add), and wanted to scream. You want to butt in and steer the conversation in another direction but the life gets sucked out of you and you feel powerless to do it.
I agree with everyone else and like Lesley, hope no-one from choir reads your blog.
xx
Haha. Nail on head Annette. I’m sure none of the more odious people at choir or elsewhere would be interested in my little blog, as they don’t really seem interested in anyone else.
In fact my (extended) family doesn’t read my blog either, it would seem, but I’m not sure why.
I also know about surgeons holding forth about stuff to the exclusion of everything else anyone else might say. I am sure your OH is not like that or he would not be your OH!
The thing is those juicy topics that might get me into trouble are exactly those that bring people to read. Without them, it would be as dull as some of these dullest men on earth, no?
I often end up chatting (listening) to people I feel sorry for but my patience only lasts a short while. 10 minutes of kindness is plenty enough unless you’re stuck next to someone at dinner. Everyone’s right – arrive later – or could you not say after a few minutes that you must go and talk to so and so? Pass the disinterested people on.
My problem is this: I’m a pushover!
It’s all about practice. Give yourself a task to improve your chances 🙂
🙂 x
Completely agree about the “juicy topics.” Wouldn’t read your blog without them. I like Barefootmower’s idea to say “I must go and talk to so and so…”