I used to think men were bon bons, a delicious addition to the sometimes bland landscape of life. But my horizons have expanded. Look at this fruit cup for goodness sake!
This evening and yesterday I phone-banked for Beto, an experience not for the faint of ego. In two days I've been hung up on about as many times as I did the same to others throughout my life, certainly a significant amount given the fury I harbored as a young woman. I'm sure I yelled at some callers and snapped at others, but I don't remember spitting "Bitch!" at anyone, as a woman did me yesterday. Maybe when my caller-abuse karma has worn off, the remainder of the phone-banking will be smooth as pie and I will lead each person to the end of the script where they will commit to an early vote with a carload of neighbors in tow.
I do not take the rude behavior personally. I follow the prompts that tell me to smile because the person on the other end can sense it. Today I was an old hand and adapted the script to my personality, skipping extraneous information such as the "social pressuring" telling people their neighbors are expected to be out in force. That type of argument never worked on me.
What works on me is flattery. I love it when people compliment my figure, my mind, my sense of style, my writing. I am a curious mix of shy insecurity, bravado masquerading as confidence, and sometimes, when feeling passionate or righteous, I may be convincing. Always there is the watcher, critiquing.
Yesterday I matched with a person whose profile read, "I'd be very happy just to find someone to enjoy time together...she doesn't have to be the ideal match for me...I would be fine to live int he moment, have fun, and enjoy life." He is a creative type. Sadly, was only visiting from NC for his son's air force graduation. We had a nice chat.
This weekend I am happy to be enjoying fall in San Antonio. Bought the best fruit cup ever yesterday afternoon. Looked a lot like the one in the painting.
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