Sometimes I really think that I have a sign on my forehead that says, “Stupid, please treat me like an idiot.”
I went to dinner a few times and saw a perfectly intelligent male for a spell about five years ago. At the time, I thought a novelty to actually go to the theatre and dinner with a successful and articulate male who didn’t drag his knuckles in the door.
The warning flags went up almost right away. In his 50-some years, he really cannot have a relationship with anyone other than a shelter dog. “Arf?” with raised paw is how I was supposed to act because, apparently, I needed constant “counseling,” about everything including how I am. I noticed that when I see him about once a year now, that he tip-toes about and is suddenly respectful. Maybe that “stupid” sign isn’t blinking these days…
