Big on small talk

DATE: Pronunciation: 'dAt; Function: noun
a : an appointment to meet at a specified time; especially : a social engagement between two persons that often has a romantic character b : a person with whom one has a usually romantic date

-- Merriam-Webster



Joe didn't have much of a plan for our date. In fact, when I got there, he was sleeping on the couch, and despite my ringing the doorbell and yelling up the steps, he stayed asleep, forcing me to let myself in.

I didn't feel that great being there. The last time I was in his house, I was alone, trudging grudingly up and down his steps in the heat with my most important and heavy stuff, swearing at him through tears, loading my shit into plastic shopping bags and then into the trunk of my car, imagining the neighbors were watching from their windows in their centrally air-conditioned kitchens and saying to each other, "Well, that didn't last long."

I didn't last long in there today either. After some small talk on the couch, I waited outside while he packed up a cooler full of food.

There were flash flood watches throughout the county, but we headed to play miniature golf. It felt absolutely ridiculous to me. After I lost, we toured the grounds and ended up at the driving range. Joe seemed surprised when I agreed to smack a few balls. I had never done it before.

This, was fun. I hit balls off the walls, tipped them off the tee and watched them roll down the hill, missed some completely and shot them nearly straight up in the air. But every once in a while I sent one soaring straight and long and imagined it wasn't too late for a career change.

Not long after, we were back in the car and it began pouring rain. Joe found an empty pavillion in a nearby park and made us roast beef sandwiches. It was rather inventive of him, despite being a huge cliche. And again the small talk. We sat in silence for a bit and I asked him what he was thinking. "Nothing," he said. "I'm just watching the cars."

I looked up at the road. There were no cars.

He jumped up and announced it was getting late and it was time to go. We went back to his house and I managed to sit in the kitchen long enough to down a couple cups of coffee and more of his small talk. Then I jumped up and announced it was getting late and it was time to go.



I don't know what it all means. If I'm supposed to be happy about it, I'm failing miserably.