Endless Chatterbox

I'm no spring chicken, at 58, and I'm not a movie-star look-alike--but I'm not ugly, either. So sometimes I will find a lady who is interested in dinner or sharing some time together fishing, my favorite outdoor activity. One woman whom I met while shopping seemed genuinely interested in joining me for an afternoon of fishing, so we made a date to do just that. What happened was a complete disaster. She should have said that what she really likes about fishing with someone is having a captive audience for her endless monologue. After an hour of nonstop drivel delivered at the speed of an auctioneer, she let me interrupt her long enough to ask if she would mind not talking for a minute, so I could hear a red-winged blackbird sing. The reaction was as if I had insulted her mother: instant hostility. She left in a huff, talking all the while of my brutish behavior. It was the worst match of two people that you can imagine. I'm sure she felt the same.

— Bob, 58

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