overheard

Last night I went down to the VK for some pho, which is usual. Normally they sit "singles" like me in the front room, which is mostly where people sit and read the Express while they wait for their takeout to be prepared. However, this evening, the maitre d' was good enough to sit me in the front window of the main room, with all the happy couples in it.

In any case, in front of me was a young couple who kept me interested and amused the whole time I was there, which I appreciated since the Express magazine I had brought was almost completely content-free.

I'd say these two were a handful of dates into their relationship, and not a big handful. What struck me right away was the inevitability of this relationship's dissolution. I would have murdered this guy. Shallow grave. He's the sort of person who'd use "dissolution" in a conversation. (At one point he used "capricious" about five times in three "sentences", no fooling.)

At first I thought this guy was just nervous. But then it turned out he was nervous, but also manic. He would not stop talking, ever. He was a musician, a violinist. At one point, after his date returned from the washroom, she asked him what he was doing, since she had seem him moving his hands, playing an imaginary instrument as she was walking back to her table.

He explained that he was simply going over some passages in his head, and went on to explain various exercises that were possible, what various famous violinists did, et cetera, all rapid-fire, without a break. I've never heard anyone speak so fast. I think she actually told him to slow down at one point.

Practicing your instrument is fine, and virtually practicing in your mind is admirable, and takes a lot of concentration. The real problem with this guy was his intensity. There was more than one point during the meal when he'd say things like: "You're looking at me, in that way. You're looking at me in that way that I imagine you think that I look at you. Are you looking at me that way?" The poor girl. She actually seemed normal, and although she had her back to me, I think I perceived her actually physically wincing a little bit.

He even pulled out the "You're being quiet. Are you mad? I'm sensing that you're uncomfortable right now, although I don't know why? What are you thinking? You just seem really, like, uncomfortable? Is it me? Is it something I've said? What is it? I really want to know."

Naturally, since these people were obviously fairly young, his every sentence was interspersed with "like", which unfortunately, like many speech impediments, made him sound retarded.

In any case, the conversation got more and more strained. "Do you want dessert?" "Um, no, I don't think so." "Are you coming over tonight?" "Um, I dunno. I think I have to... Do they bring the bill, or do we go up to the cash register. I think we go up to the cash register here..."

There was also a discussion of "fate" too painful to recall. It's enough to say he pulled out the names of at least half the philosophers he studied at Ottawa U in second year. Things got quiet on the other side of the table.

I didn't get to the end of their conversation, because the whole time I'd been vacuuming down my pho. Just as well, though. I learned a few things about dating that night, but the main one was: be cool.

Like you, I enjoy the irony as well: the guy eating his soup by himself makes fun of the young man with the cute girl. What would my next-table dinner friend say? ("Well, I think Spinoza said it best when he claimed that...")