[1]I recently had a meet and greet with a man who didn’t ask me a single question. Maybe he was nervous. But I was too. By the end of our 75 minutes together, I’d learned where he was born, grew up, went to college, what foods he likes, the car he drives, what his father did for a living and where his daughter lives. I got a sense of his taste, the books he reads and the last movie he saw. If asked, I don’t believe this man could answer a single, substantive thing about me, except maybe what I looked like, and even that I’m not sure. On a human level, wasn’t he the least bit curious? I haven’t been on a date in awhile. But this felt so familiar. And it made me want to scream.
Image via Stuff & Son [1]