:: The Wendy House ::

Sixty-seven in a non-conversational-style series of posts detailing many reasons for my singleness

Reason #67: conversationally challenged

I haven’t got an engaging commute story,  I haven’t got neighbours from hell stories, in the US my food-centric conversations were decidedly below-par,  there are times when even I recognise that my conversational skills take a nose-dive,  I’m gradually realising that all the stock legitimate popular conversational topics are not part of my standard repetoire.

This conversation topic sneaks out over lunches and in pubs.  At first I thought it was a reserved conversation amongst friends because while the stories have entertainment value they clearly point to a source of stress in the tellers life.  Then recently while buying home and contents insurance from a clerk in my local Reading bank branch:

Bank Clerk (BC):  is it a nice home?

Wendy: it needs some work but its detached,  no noisey neighbours to worry about

BC:  Oh tell me about it!  we’ve got the nieghbour from hell she deals crack cocaine and everyone knows about it,  last night at about 4am she through a concrete garden boulder at her friends car because they were having an argument,  I was lying there praying she didn’t miss and hit my car…  …we tried calling the police but they just don’t want to know,  there’s nothing you can do…  …we’ve asked the council to move us but they can’t…   …she leaves her 4 year old child alone in the house while she goes out partying… (and more of the same ilk for approximately 15 mins)

My listening performance was worthy of the type of fees traditionally paid to professional psychiatrists.    What friendly approachable, troubled, staff they have at my local bank branch in Reading. 

I might just drop into the bank to check she’s ok next time I’m downtown.

Midweek I’m doing the laundry and making other homesy stuff which is not half as much fun as when the kitties are trying to make things not run smoothly.  So I toddled off to check-out one of the local pubs

Wendy:  do you have and dark ales?

Barboy:  Just Newcastle brown and that comes in a bottle.

I’m disturbed.  Every self-respecting British beer drinker knows that Newcastle brown comes in a bottle.  The barboy felt he had to tell me.  Is this because my not quite English accent shows with just the one phrase above?

GADZOOKS! 

There’s me thinking I’d maintained my Englishness through and through and now people are telling me that Newcastle brown comes in a bottle.  I scan the electric taps and pick an ale over a larger

Wendy:  John Smith’s please

Barboy:  that will be two pounds thirty.

I wander off to read my book,  drink my pint,  wonder if I’m geographically unplaceable.

Barboy:  Same again?

Wendy:  I’ll have an Abbots Ale (yummy, I don’t know why he didnt sell this to me first time around)

Barboy:  how did you find us?

Wendy:  I’ve just moved in nearby

Barboy:  where do you live?

Is my luck in?  What’s this all about?  Is knowing that Abbots Ale is the right beer to drink the key to conversational success?

Wendy: Number 13 (blah) road

Barboy:  I live at number 26,  welcome…  …don’t go into the (blah)

BLOODY BLASPHEMY a boy all of half my age just told me his home address,  smiled at me and is being downright friendly.  Gosh,  I remember that happening when I was in my 20’s and 30’s but not in my 40’s.  I think I need to calm down or have a reality check or something.

Wendy:  Oh yeah,  I looked through the windows, it looked rough

Barboy:  I worked there for 2 evenings,  it was EMBARRESSING

at this point I’ll censor the conversation.  Surfice to say it did continue and I do know a little more about my neighborhoood and will be going back to that pub… …which pressumably was the barboys intention…  Should I take flat-eric?  What do you think?

thirty-seventh post in a Wednesday series detailing the food-centric truth’s behind Wendy’s singleness.

Reason # 37: food-centric conversationally challenged

Often I find food a rather dull conversational topic.  It can be made interesting by focussing on the social,  political, environmental and cultural practices that influence what is produced and how it is eaten.  I sometimes find myself in the company of people who converse about food quality, production techniques, and restaurant reputation.  Let’s call these people ‘foodies’. I am not sufficiently well equipped to deeply engage in a conversation with these foodies.  

I’m not particulalrly interested in the varied subtle differences in the quality and preparation of various food-types or chefs.  I have rarely if ever watched the food channel, or read the substantial dining section in the NYT.  I have watched Jamie Oliver but that’s got nothing to do with my cooking or eating its about the political social cultural dynamics of eating.  I am shamefully disinterested in learning about the differences between wines or paying to experience a subtle taste-difference.  I’m happy with cheap plonk.   I’m happier still if someone who does study and care about wine chooses it on my behalf so I don’t have to make a decision. 

By contrast I do care about who I’m dining with and the way the place that I dine works to support our conversation.  I’ll happily go to the same restaurant several times in one week to be in the company of gorgeous people where the background noise is sufficiently low to enable conversation.  I’ll happily prance into a greasy spoon for a good giggle with a couple of rowdy friends,  often this is preferable because it doesn’t dent my budget so badly.  Foodies, eating out, are often expensive friends.

To help overcome my glaring social disability I have worked on the ‘Tea’ thing,  you’ve seen this happen through the taking tiffin plog posts.   It’s proved a popular series. I have been introduced to people as the freak wench  lady with a blog about tea.  I don’t get introduced as the crazy spinster lady with a blog about why she’s single.  People even ask me about tea as-if I’m a specialist,  very flattering,  not really true, maybe that’s part of being a foodie conversationalist.  People strike-up conversations with me about things that I’ve written-about in  my tea series.   Yet.  A peak at my blog statistics clearly implies that snoopers are more interested in why I’m single.  Few if any people actually strike-up a conversation with me on this topic.  My tea theme is a socially acceptible conversation topic the reasons why I’m single seem less conversationally acceptable.