MATURE MEN SHOULD JUST STOP TALKING

Yesterday, I nearly went and got myself a date…….but whilst from the outside my would be new gentleman friend was quite acceptable, once he started on his epic story, he went on and on, and it quickly became a no likey from me. That’s why mature men should just stop talking.

There I was stood on a chilly September morning, flogging my crap again at the local weekly car boot sale when a mature gentleman kindly pointed out to me that one of my items was displayed the wrong way round.

He seemed a nice genuine man, silver hair, with an impressive logo on his body warmer, and if I’m not mistaken a splash of Dior Eau de Savage wafted my way. We chatted about the pro’s and con’s of bifocal’s, and how popular Onyx had been in the 70’s. Not exactly mind blowing conversation, but don’t say I didn’t try.

I’m quite a regular there as I’m trying my best to declutter my life because as lifestyle ‘gurus’ say,  minimalistic is the new way to be cosy and less stressed.  I’m not convinced. 

After exchanging some pleasantries, Dior Man wandered off, and I went back to the heady business of bartering with a man over a purse I had for sale.  ‘How much?’ he yelled in my direction, ‘Two pounds’ I yelled back, equally impolitely.

After examining the £2.00 purse for what seemed like forever, zipping and unzipping, turning it over and over, (it was a small purse) he said to me (optimistically)….. ‘You take 50p yes?’

Of course whilst inside my head I muttered ‘no F Off’, what I actually said was ‘No, it’s £2.00’. and just added the ‘F Off’ look that I’ve used many times before.  He dropped it like a hot jacket spud and walked away.

A short while later ‘Dior Man’ rocked up again,proudly carrying a large strimmer and started describing his large garden, which surrounded his detached bungalow, where he lived alone with two cats. And that’s about when he should have just stopped talking and trying to impress me.

Instead he just went into overdrive and almost without pausing for breath, launched into a very long, and very boring story about how he had come to own one of the aforementioned cats.

Before I zoned completely out, I think it involved the bottom of his garden, some neighbours who abandoned their house and the cat, a vet, some cat food, and a lot of scratches.  And then suddenly in the middle of the cat fest, he said ‘Have you got a boyfriend’………WTF?

A lady who was up to that point just looking at some other crap I had for sale looked up and said unhelpfully in my view

‘ If you don’t, it looks like you could have one now’……..no thanks luv, my boredom threshold is too low

Does anyone else find that mature men take forever to tell a story, and are so boring, when us ladies can say the same 500 words in about 50!