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When the planets are right and neither of us is too tired: him too tired to listen, me too tired to be coherent, I can spill my heart out to him. At least on the things that matter. At least on the things that really bother me. I told him all about the politics. I told him about the new funky oddness that means that my primary job is getting replaced. (Bigger faster stronger; but what's the new check-in position? Hell if I know.) He told me about his job and some of the fun he's been having.
We play this game. I usually go first. I tell him about something. He matches it. I have to wait and be silent for him to talk, but he'll talk. I tell him something. And then when I'm quiet long enough, he starts in, trading me in kind: information for information. He plays it mechanically, unless he's fired up with enthusiasm and then he'll go on and on, or if he's gaming and he'll let me speak until I'm all run down, but under normal circumstances it goes like this: if I talk about work, he talks about work. If I talk about friends, he talks about friends. If I talk about family, he talks about family. But he plays it. He plays it. He plays it with me and I love him in spite of the fact that it's awkward and not second nature. He didn't learn the game until later, and the nuances still escape him half the time.
Half an hour. Almost enough. Never enough. Enough to keep the defensive shields up one more week. Enough oil poured into the lamp to keep it lit a few days longer, gods willing.
I have a glorious prank gift idea that requires a reference and paint. If no one already has, custom golf balls made to look like the head of any given person could be a big seller. Photo golf balls, or pick from a customizable choice of stock hairstyles, features, and accessories! Just like a candybar doll, but for whacking the fuck out of Management, or anyone else who's in need of some good old-fashioned Took-style Orc-whacking action. (Also: someone needs to take the engine for a decent golf game, and add in more hobbits, more rabbit holes, and more severed heads.)
We play this game. I usually go first. I tell him about something. He matches it. I have to wait and be silent for him to talk, but he'll talk. I tell him something. And then when I'm quiet long enough, he starts in, trading me in kind: information for information. He plays it mechanically, unless he's fired up with enthusiasm and then he'll go on and on, or if he's gaming and he'll let me speak until I'm all run down, but under normal circumstances it goes like this: if I talk about work, he talks about work. If I talk about friends, he talks about friends. If I talk about family, he talks about family. But he plays it. He plays it. He plays it with me and I love him in spite of the fact that it's awkward and not second nature. He didn't learn the game until later, and the nuances still escape him half the time.
Half an hour. Almost enough. Never enough. Enough to keep the defensive shields up one more week. Enough oil poured into the lamp to keep it lit a few days longer, gods willing.
I have a glorious prank gift idea that requires a reference and paint. If no one already has, custom golf balls made to look like the head of any given person could be a big seller. Photo golf balls, or pick from a customizable choice of stock hairstyles, features, and accessories! Just like a candybar doll, but for whacking the fuck out of Management, or anyone else who's in need of some good old-fashioned Took-style Orc-whacking action. (Also: someone needs to take the engine for a decent golf game, and add in more hobbits, more rabbit holes, and more severed heads.)
