I don't care what you ate last night.
I don't care what you ate last night. I
don't care what it was called or how it was presented or how much it
cost. I want gossip. I want to hear about scandal, illegitimacy,
failure, success, real lives.
I don't care what wine you drank last
night. I don't care about its colour or taste, I was not there, I did
not taste that wine, and nothing you say can describe it. I want to
drink it, not hear descriptions of it.
I don't give a flying expletive-deleted
what the colour of the sand was on your holidays. Or the quality of
the hotel. Or the route you took to get there. I want to know how you
make your money, what your work you do, if you enjoy it, if you have any
plans or ambitions.
And sure as hell I don't want to hear
your opinions on football teams, or hear what you dreamt last night.
When someone says "I had a really strange dream last night..."
I feel like a caged animal.
I'll smile politely, and maybe, to my
shame, join in. But we'll all be dust soon, let's at least talk about
interesting things.
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