YOU WOULD HAVE TO DO ALL THE TALKING

My apartment mate proposed lunch at the nearby Pakistani place. To which I alacritously agreed, as it is very good. She also suggested inviting our landlady along, because she fears that she (landlady) might be a bit lonely. I kind of indicated that I was not entirely enthusiastic about that. I am not that social. What I didn't say was that having dealt with people for a few days at work, all day long, my social batteries are a bit low.

And normally I find being convivial a bit trying anyhow. I don't mind being around other folks talking and will interact appropriately when needed, but my role is primarily to prompt them at times, and listen.
Also unsaid: good lord woman, you are far more Aspy than I am, do you really think that's a good idea? And you would have to be the more socially interactive person in any case, as on my first day off I am very much a rutabaga.

We rutabagas are not well-known for being the life of the party in any case. At many cocktail get-togethers nobody says "oh look, the rutabaga is in the house, now the fun starts!"

In fact, there could be a whole bushel of rutabagas at the bar, and it would be dead quiet, except for the soft sound of shuffling as each root vegetable subtly ensures a greater distance from the nearest conversational threat.

Nice weather we're having. Yes. Sunshine.
My root tendrils enjoy warm soil.
And the earthworms.


Did you know that when the weather heats up in Spring there are more earthworms about?
I don't know what the increase in their population is when conditions are better. Someone should do a study. Is their reproduction a yearly thing, or can it take place a number of times over summer? Do earthdwelling segmented annelids reproduce with external ova clusters.
Or do they carry their developing young along attached to their external surfaces?
Yeah, the possibility of conversation stagnating is rather immense.
Small talk about earthworm sex is not conducive.

Perhaps if each rutabaga present quoted from Monty Python as approrpiate. I've had entire conversations where the whole time Monty Python was in play. Several occasions. The dead cabinet in the sitting room. Drawing room. Eh, you know what I mean. Vacations in Southern Spain involving Watney's Red Barrel and a lizard in the bidet. Dead parrots with beautiful plumage. Killer rabbits. Three questions. Swallows and coconuts.

These interactions were lively and enjoyable, but very many non-rutabagas are unfamiliar with Monty Python. An exception being rabbis and Talmudic scholars, quite a few of whom are surprisingly in tune with the Pythonesque gestalt.



==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================