Every so often, Megan or I sneak out of each other’s presence — sometimes only mentally, where one of us is looking at shimmering objects (as we are both prone to do) while the other chatters merrily away about the landscape, American history or last night’s date. But occasionally even physically, we are not within eyesight of one another.* And usually, this is when we take a phone call.
After a date a few nights ago, I hopped on the phone with Adam. As conversation is wont to do these days, we ended up talking about my most recent first date. More and more, I’ve noticed men actively want to tell me their dating stories — from relationships lost to dates ending in disaster to simply the frustrations of trying to get a girl to respond via the internet. So I told Adam I was surprised so many guys were not only willing to talk, but leading the conversation there.
Adam, however, wasn’t that shocked. “If you’re lonely and you get frustrated…your friends probably don’t want to hear about it anymore. The guys you’ve been meeting are just glad someone will listen. Someone who gets it.”
Funny thing about guys across America: they’re not what I expected them to be. It’s darn near impossible not to buy into the Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus mentality, and as open minded as I am to people being humans regardless of their gender, it’s still hard to believe that men would actively want to talk. Yet here I am, being proved wrong day in and day out. Which makes me think: Do guys in the Bay Area just not want to talk as much as the rest of the country due to their veneer of “cool”? Or, is it simply easier to open up to a stranger whom you’re fairly sure you’ll never see again, even if a film camera is involved?
*Makes me want a pair of glasses that always show Meg’s location in the corner, though. As much as we cherish, and certainly require, time away, I’m more and more accustomed to knowing her exact whereabouts.