There’s a man in my life who sucks at communicating. No, no, it’s not The Mister. So long as your words reach his good ear, The Mister could win an award for best straight man communication skills. He can’t text for shit, but that’s a blog of another color.
No, the man I’m referring to shall be called Captain Bert Obvious, because that’s totally not his name. I’m pretty sure Bert doesn’t read this blog, but plenty of his friends do, so Bert, if you’re readin, think of this as constructive criticism, cause it ain’t a fuckin compliment.
When I’m out, and I see Bert, he might say, “I see Sadie has a new leash,” followed by nothing else. Or he might ask, “Got a new dress, eh, Joey?” He doesn’t say anything negative or positive about things, he just points out that he notices.
What am I supposed to do with this feeble attempt at conversation?
“I see your senses are in working order, Bert.”
I just say, “Yes.” In my head, I’m all, what the fuck, bert? what the fuck?!?
To be fair, on occasion, he does take the time to share his opinions. Like when he said, “Gee, Joey, you coulda brushed your hair,” and “I like your hair like that.” Those two sentences were about ten years apart, but these rare comments gave me a deeper understanding of Bert. Bert likes my hair after I’ve spent 20 minutes blowin it out with a big round brush and a dryer, then smoothed it with jet sets and hair products out the yin-yang, and let it sit for an hour. He does not like my hair in its natural state, which is anything but smooth or straight. Got it. Thanks for sharing, Bert.
I have joked with The Mister, saying that I feel I should call Bert at every turn, “Bert, I’m about to hang a new shower curtain. I sure
don’t give a fuck if hope you like it, not that I’ll ever know, either way.”
Maybe Bert lives by “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.” Maybe he hates everything.
Do you know anyone like Bert? How do you handle the ambiguity?