I realised that I was essentially on my own right about the time that I noticed that you weren’t listening to a word I said. Oh, I don’t mean you were ignoring me, like the way the people do in a waiting room; or even just blanking me as if I were a customer in your shop that required the minimum amount of interaction- a text book Tesco tick card of hellos and helps and goodbyes. No, I mean really and truly not listening.
It was the conversation about the greenhouse, I remember it well. You are forever throwing at me in the heat of an argument that I’m pedantic, or I’m asking too much that people should be that precise in their conversation or in their responses, but in reality I do actually recall every word that is said. It’s more of a curse than a blessing, and one I often try to obliterate through sedative amounts of drinking, although inevitably I find losing the ability more frustrating than having it but not being believed. Oh, I know that there are careless words and times when people say things in the heat of the moment, but people tend to remember what they meant, you know? Rather than what they actually said? They forget the role of the listener in the conversation, and how the filters of their experience and emotions can completely skew the most innocent of remarks; there’s no such things as a flawless conversation.
Which leads me to the joke.