408. I will no longer speak to strangers unless they’re Elvis impersonators

You can guess by the fact that I haven’t written much that my last few months haven’t been exactly action packed.

Maybe that’s why I started searching Facebook for people in my past this morning. Not to contact them but to see what was up with them.

I hit pay dirt on my first query.

I found a guy I used to date when I was in my late teens. I spent a whole summer mooning over him and waiting for him to call.

I first met him on the Jones Beach Expressway. I told you I was kind of slutty when I was young.

My friend and I were coming home from, where else? Jones Beach. We were in traffic and some guys in the next car started talking to us. One of them said he went to Amherst, the school that my close friend’s brother went to.  It turns out that they knew each other and the romance went on from there.

As I said that summer was spent sitting at home waiting for him to call.

Here’s the interesting thing about this. He was pretty cute but not that cute and I never had a good time with him. He’d come over to my house with a six pack of beer or two and plop himself in front of the TV and watch baseball while I read a book.

Even though he went to a fairly serious school he could only discuss two subjects, sports and rock and roll. And after finishing the first six pack not even that.

He’d take me to WASPY parties that needless to say my Bronx Jewish humor didn’t entice any of the girls there to ask me to join their sororities or sewing circles or whatever the hell those girls did for laughs.

I don’t remember him ever spending a cent on me.

Which is why I shouldn’t have been that surprised to find when I googled him that he had won a Nobel Prize for Economics.

Now what’s the point of this?

Last night David and I each took our dinner out to his terrace and ate together.

Once again he took the opportunity to tell me what a pea brain I am. He insists that I know less about stuff than anyone he knows.

I admit that Geography isn’t my strong suit but I balked when he said I was ignorant of history. Not knowing about the Crimean War does not a dumb person make. Crimean, Shrimean who cares and how will that knowledge help me get a good seat on the bus? I know plenty of history stuff for example I know that he’s a big stupid jerk and he has been for ages.

PLUS I bet none of his high falutin’ geography loving friends have ever swapped spit with a Nobel Prize winner.

Nuff said.

9 thoughts on “408. I will no longer speak to strangers unless they’re Elvis impersonators

    • I feel quire certain that you contacted this gentleman and had a serious discussion about the massive quantitative easing strategy of the world’s major central banks.

      • As it happened I did and he praised me for having such a clever grasp of the economy while expressing surprise that I was friends with a stoopid know nothing doody head like you who doesn’t even know that when you make a comment you don’t just add it to the person who wrote before you (Sorry Barbara).

  1. face it a nobel prize is great ,but economics ?? Can he sit on a beach and sculpt a piece of marble or make anyone as happy with his writing as you can, besides his mother? nooo!

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