just askin': rethinking you

So, have you ever gone out for the two d's with someone, dinner and drinks, and had one of these conversations?

It's not with a close friend, but you're more than mere acquaintances. You've gone out a few times.
It's later in the night. You both order something greasy and heavy on the calories. You order the extra large beer and it goes down a little too smoothly, refreshingly, and easily. Muscles relax, tensions ease after an especially emotional day. The beer is needed. The company, conversation and laughs are needed. You're thankful for your friends. At this moment the day doesn't matter.

He starts to tell you about his tale of woe. His relationships. It starts off simple enough. He was telling you about the love of his life. It's completely enthralling. You're on the edge of your seat without even realizing you're on the edge of your seat. You want the waitress to stop asking you how everything is. The tale of woe has everything.
Dysfunctional parents divorcing, coming outs, deaths, suicide, more deaths, finding out their partner is married with kids, who knew? AIDS, living all over the country. The stories have inflection, emotion, laughs, and a few too many, "You have got to be kidding me!" coming forth from your mouth inbetween greasy bites of food and gulps of beer.
When he finally finishes telling you his story of woe the plate has been licked clean, the beer is gone down to the last drop and the bill has been paid by him, as a birthday treat.
The night is over.

You think.

Then he says, "So what about you? What's your story?"
"Me? Oh we don't have time for me. We'll tell my story another time."
"No, c'mon."
You hesitate.
"Really? My tale of woe?"
You hesitate.
So, you tell it.
Your story.
The condensed 2.5-second version of your story.
The super quick majorly fast forwarded version of your life story.
He says a few too many, "My god's!" peppered with a few, "Well what happened?!" salted with a couple of, "Then what?"
And really at this point you just wish you would have given them the .5 second version of your tale of woe because his head has tilted, the eyes have glazed into a internal dialog of, "Well, holy hell."
You see the look.
The look is clearly registering with you.
However, it's not a look of pity or anything like that. Because seriously, by this point they're only getting the highlights. The instant rewinds with Elway and there is no yellow highlighter circling the points that might have been missed.
Then the .5-second version is over.
Bill has been paid.
You drive home thinking about the look.
The head titled, glazed eyes rethinking you. The image and picture of you.

However, you're not really all that bothered by the look.
But, at the same time it's seared into your head.
For tonight anyway.

Has that night of two d's ever happened to you?
No?
Me neither.