Cameroon vs The Seychelles

I'm holding my phone two feet away from my head, pointing out the window. On the other end a Cranston rugby nut I know is going on and on about the soccer match between Ghana and America. I have pointed the phone towards the window ten times so far, so the robins can hear this.

At first, out of kindness, I pretend to listen about red cards, box to box midfielder and loud criticism of why the USA “can't maintain control of the ball?”

“Uh-huh, Sure, I guess so, Mmmm, Yep” are the one word responses I give while I get this scrutiny of the game's play. I can only do this for so long. My good nature is wearing thin. Lastly, inside my head I'm saying this very loud:

“Shut UP! I DON'T Care! I HATE soccer! Stop asking me QUESTIONS about soccer! Can't you SEE how LITTLE I'm engaged in this!?”

Of course, he never picks up on my complete lack of spirit about the game, or one word responses.

I try to turn the conversation towards something else, like the damn weather for the next few days. I triumph for about thirty seconds when he yells: “Goddammit! That guy's faking he's injured! Why can't the referee see that!” Jesus...we're back to the game again.

At length I pull the LIAR'S card. I say someone's pulled up in front and I have to talk to them now.

I don't hate soccer with a passion, I really don't. I just don't understand it fully. Nor do I have any desire to learn it. It's for the same reason I don't learn how to knit. I don't have any interest in it. The same holds true for cricket, curling, roller derby or hot air balloon races. I don't even like basketball. I also don't like drinking water from the tap (but that's due to growing up on super-chlorinated Pawtucket water).

Anyways...I hit “end” on my phone after I lied my way out of that anguish. And as you can see, it's still bugging me as I write about this four hours later! Ugh...I can see why some people's awful social skills really grate on others and cause them to take flight.