Shut Your Pie Hole?

What is it about guys who cannot shut their pie holes on a first date?

Perhaps I am too good a listener. I was raised to not interrupt, to show interest in the other person, to ask questions and draw them out.

Clearly, I have either been too well raised or am too talented in this regard. I am done with being a captive audience: It’s time to find my voice.

Take this evening. I was having a drink on a first meet and greet, lovely venue by a river, soft breezes dovetailing off a crimson sunset. Hot day, cool night ... lots of potential, right?

Wrong. After the initial question about my rock climbing, George launched into a monologue that, being seamless, never offered any openings for communication. Worse, no openings to talk about myself.

Not that this is all about me.

But it is, in the sense of wondering why a guy would wink at me on match.com, call, ask me out for the next night, and then talk for 1.5 hours about himself and not try to get to know me at all.

It isn’t that I have to talk about myself, or that I mind listening. It’s just that I get the feeling guys truly don’t know how to connect with women. You can say it’s nerves, you can say it’s upbringing, but I wonder if there’s a basic disconnect between most men and self-awareness. Most don’t dare look within. Women have always done it for them: always reflected their feelings and self-esteem back to them. Thus, they haven’t had to take responsibility for the kind of self-awareness that is the only foundation for true intimacy and connection. For real love.

These guys are insufferable. How many phone conversations and dates do we endure where the man simply does not know when to stop talking — bloviating, if you will — and about himself? Too many men do not know how to have a discussion, engage in real dialogue. They windbag it over topics that invite no input. One-way is not a conversation. You may as well play with yourself; clearly woman not needed here.

Tonight, while being an unwilling accommodator, I veered off into more pleasant recesses of my mind to conjure various endings to the evening. George was a decent guy and deserved better than some of my machinations. I ended up excusing myself to use the restroom, returned without sitting down, and the evening was over. He was gracious, and when I got home he had already sent an email with a semi-apology for talking so much.

Listen up, guys: It isn’t that women need to talk about themselves all the time, but it will get you a lot farther, and in shorter time, if you take an interest in us. It isn’t all about you, and it isn’t all about us; but if there is any chance for connection, and more, then you’d better shut up and start listening.

Otherwise, why bother?