My big mouth

[I’m going to be leaving for a talk soon. Which means I have to do things so that I have something to talk about. Which means I am not going to be updating this place for a while.

Which means things aren’t going to be too different from how they’ve been in the recent past.]

I went out to dinner to this fancy place, the Bella Ciao, with a friend a few nights ago. It was definitely one of the most pleasant (and did I mention fancy?) dining experiences I’ve had in a while. When people decide on places to eat, they most probably confer with their refined palate as to how it feels like pleasuring itself for the day. But I, like a few others I’m sure, just pick the place with the most appealing wait staff.

You’d think someone like me will just go to the closest place open to minimize time wasted and try to rush back to their work, but that’s not true. I enjoy good food. I enjoy adorable waitresses more.

But, I digress.

Returning to our central theme, the one you know nothing about considering the digression, I was out to dinner with a friend recently and quite intrigued by some of the questions brought up during the conversation that ensued. Now, being a woman, she (perfectly legitimately) had to bring up irrational men behaviour that she’d recently been subjected to in her life. By, irrational men behaviour, I don’t mean the behaviour of irrational men, I mean the seemingly irrational behaviour men exhibit when it comes to… let’s just say, certain aspects of life. Being a male and all, I have some insight into the “why”s pertaining to the things we do, as opposed to most women, who just have the pleasure of dealing with the “what”s.

Anyway, when things came up, I found myself coolly delivering very sane sounding canned answers that made perfect sense to the innocent third party. I know fully well why I probably did this, apart from the near-divine meal I was concentrating so hard on. I honestly believed what I was saying, and had earlier given it so much thought, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind as to what I should say. But later, the next day or something, I thought about it. I wasn’t entirely sure.

For the most part, I’m fairly certain most people who’re arbitrarily nice to other people have some sort of weird ulterior motive. More so when it’s a guy doing something for a woman seemingly without reason. They needn’t even know what it is, it probably exists and they’re doing it hoping for the payoff. Now I believe that so strongly, a bunch of things I said that night were parroting this theme. Now, I don’t know what it is, I am not sure. After much thought, there is this little fuzzy region where the guy sometimes tends to be nice, ulterior-motive-free. It’s some sort of inherent carey-safeguardey-providery state where he just has to. It’s like nature gives him no choice but to don that role. How long this lasts and when the he-definitely-wants-something and is thus nice state starts isn’t entirely clear.

Now you can’t go back and recant everything you said a few days ago and kill the hope that random male was being arbitrarily nice because he probably liked you. Not after your statements reinforced another’s earlier plan of making myself stunning so he doesn’t stand a chance since he likes me but just doesn’t know it, yet.

Eek.

You probably need more detail into the specifics of the topics of conversation that came up to have a clue as to what I am talking about. I’m too lazy to go back and reword this for clarity. Probably some other time.