Alphabet Series: Obnoxious

Day Fifteen: Obnoxious

Okay, so I think I’m a little obnoxious anyway, but looking back, I think it was amplified before I met Cory. It’s like I couldn’t relax and had this subconscious opinion that everyone else should be wound tightly, too.

I attribute some of this to the fact that my interests have often differed vastly from any guy I’ve dated or been interested in. By that I mean that I was “born too late” – as people older than I am often say – and found guys’ lack of historical or pop culture knowledge to be draining in a conversation. See? Obnoxious.

For example, some of my favorite movies are the Pink Panther movies from the 1960s and 1970s starring Peter Sellers (specifically The Return of the Pink Panther and The Pink Panther Strikes Again). My entire life, my family has fired off several jokes from the movies, making various situations immediately prone to those jokes when I got older. Needless to say, the conversation sputters and dies when I have to start explaining what movie I’m talking about, who Peter Sellers is, why the joke is funny and how it has nothing to do with the Steve Martin remakes.

That’s an elementary example, but not being able to continue a stimulating conversation with someone every once in a while is tiresome. I certainly don’t have knowledge of all things, but I consider myself an intellectually well-rounded person. My husband was going to have to be someone who was compatible with me in terms of my knowledge base (which, admittedly, is mostly trivia and movie quotes).

Cory and I dated for about a month before we officially became a couple. I was visiting a friend in North Carolina when Cory made the proposition to see each other exclusively. Given my past two years of dating in which guys had liked to hang out with me but not claim me as a girlfriend, I kept asking Cory over the phone if he was sure. I knew it was safe to proceed when one of his reasons for us to officially date was, “We’re able to talk. We talk about pretty much anything. I don’t have to hold your hand and lead you through a conversation or what I’m talking about. I mean, how many 23-year-olds would send a text message with a photo of J.R. from Dallas?”

I knew all that useless knowledge would come in handy one day.

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