The Strong Silent Type

Any of you that have met me in person know that I’m a pretty social girl. I love my friends, enjoy big noisy groups, and, as Miss Mia can attest to, am not entirely shy and retiring in a karaoke club. Granted, I do like to think I know when it’s a good time to just shut up and enjoy the quiet, but, considering I’m a writer for a living, you gotta figure I’m a pretty communicative gal.

Mr. Big is not.

Mr. Big is one of the best looking guys I’ve ever been out with. Hot with a capital HAWT. Gorgeous brown eyes with these really long lashes, chiseled features, a sexy little goatee thing going on, and a body to die for. I’m pretty sure I’ve blogged at least three times on his abs alone. Yeah, he’s that yum. When I’m with him, I almost feel the need to pinch myself to make sure he’s real. When we first started going out I thought I could happily just sit and stare at him forever.

However, I’m beginning to wonder if I didn’t jinx myself with that thought.

Last night we went out to dinner and then to see a play that a friend of mine (The Bicycle Thief) is performing in. The dinner was great, Big found this awesome Asian fusion restaurant downtown where the decor was really interesting – lots of bamboo and wind chimes - and the food was delicious. But, the conversation was almost non-existent. I’m not sure if he had something else on his mind, was tired from a long day, or just plain bored with me, but he was so quiet. Just sort of staring out the window, silently eating. Which, of course, prompted me to scramble for anything to say to fill the awkward silence. I talked about the weather, the décor, the architecture outside, probably asked him how his day was three times before I finally gave up. I’m sure he thought I was a total bimbo coming up with all these inane questions to ask him, but I was starting to envy the couples around us who seemed to have an effortless stream of conversation going. At our table I could almost hear the crickets chirping.

By the time we left I was exhausted from trying to come up with lame conversation starters. And, I was pretty sure he thought I was either a) incredibly nosey (“So, where did you grow up?” “Uh huh, and you have a sister?” “And her husband works where?”) or b) the ditziest girl alive (“Ever wonder where seedless watermelon comes from? I mean, there’s no seed.” “How are those Cowboys doing? They play football, right?” “Look, a pigeon!”)

Luckily we made it to the theater and slipped into the back just in time to see The Bicycle Thief make his grand entrance onto the stage, and my need to fill the ever thickening silence was put on hold. Halfway through, I got a phone call, so at intermission I was thankfully saved from sounding like Inane Chatter Girl by slipping out to return the call. But, by the time the play ended and we were waiting outside to meet up with my actor buddy, the silence had descended again. I countered by commenting on the weather. Again.

I could have kissed The Bicycle Thief when he came out of the theater to meet us (in fact, I think I did) and jumped right into normal person conversation that didn’t require fifty false starts on my part. He brought along another one of the players from the show, and we all went out for drinks. And I swear it was the first time I felt I could relax all night.

Which leads me to a very disturbing realization: Mr. Big and I have nothing to talk about. I’m not sure if we’ve run out of things to say to each other, or just don’t have enough in common, or he’s just settled into his role as strong silent type and doesn’t think we need to say anything more. But, I’m pretty sure if we have another silent dinner like last night, I’m going to end up talking about organizing my sock drawer or the clockwise rotation of toilet bowl water. Or, heaven forbid, more weather. So, I need help coming up with something activity-focused that we can do next time. Something that lends itself to doing more than talking, so the silence doesn't fill the air like a big awkward blanket. Any ideas, ladies?


~Trigger Happy (and way too chatty) Halliday