In an effort to begin checking things off my insanely long California bucket list, Saturday night I ventured out with some friends to the LA Galaxy game. It was my first soccer game since I saw “Tatu” play with the Dallas Sidekicks. {I know. I am probably dating myself. But there is no hiding it anyway. I am 35. Or at least I will be Wednesday. Ugh. Pardon my digression, I’m pretty sure it is just another symptom of my old age.}
Back to the soccer game. Or actually back to what my ears bleed during the soccer game.
Two male contemporaries sat directly behind us. And for an hour or so they grated on each of our nerves as they loud-talked about marathoning. One of the men had completed several races. And the other was just beginning his training.
It wasn’t ONLY the deafening decibal at which they spoke that made them annoying. It was also the way in which they conversed with each other.
One spoke without listening. One spoke dropping big words and accomplishments so that he appeared uber-knowledgable. One spoke overstating his meager skills so he might fit in. One gave half-hearted yet wholly-unconvincing assurances. One spoke with an air of superiority. One spoke with a hint of insecurity. And they both took themselves, and their running, way too seriously.
The unease during their exchange was so apparent, it united me and my friends in a mix of agitation and hilarity. But as I reflected back on it this morning, I wondered if someone, anyone, might overhear some of my conversations and observe the same lame conversation skills.
Yep. I fear they might.
And so this is the song I sing, the prayer I pray,
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer. Psalm 19:14
And may I not sound like the foolish idiot I regretfully am time and time again.
Have you witnessed, or displayed, any lame conversation skills in recent memory?
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