For as long as I can remember I have been saddled with the unfortunate label as ‘a good listener’. To be ‘a good listener’ all that is required is timely and appropriate responses to the ‘talker’, such as agreeable head nods, a raised eyebrow to suggest an acknowledgement of a poignant comment, an occasional “Uh-Huh”, “I see”, “good point” or any other mumblings that will do the job. All the while, feigning interest in the banality of their words.
You sit endlessly listening to the monotonous meaningless drivel that emanates from their mouths. I took one girl out once and after the movie we went back to her apartment. I ended up staying the night, but not for the usual reasons a man might spend the night with a women. I think she heard somewhere that I was ‘a good listener’ and decided to take advantage of that. She spent the next few hours recounting every significant event in her life (to her anyway) about her ex-boyfriend, how her father mistreated her, etc., etc., etc. And to send the message home she pulled out ten or so photo albums for my enjoyment…not. It was a long night not the carnal ecstasy I’d hoped for and not even a good morning peck on the cheek.
That incident compounded by the one problem with being ‘a good listener’, the fact that none of these people ever listen to you, has changed me. I am not such ‘a good listener’ anymore, I don’t pay much mind to what other people talk about since it’s most likely nonsense. So if you talk to me and see me raise my brow or nod at measured increments of time, guess what? I’m not listening to a damn thing you’re saying.
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