Truth and Pizza: Or "You just realized this NOW?"

Oh, where to start, where to start?

Gentlemen, this one is for you. May you learn a lesson from the mishaps of Bobo, which is not so much his name as it is his cat's name, but it's the best I can do.

Where to start? Bobo and I casually dated back in the initial fall of a period of time I like to wistfully refer to as SMOS. SMOS was good times, but we can talk about how selfish things are often fun later. It didn't end very prettily, and we haven't really talked a lot since, though I do miss his energy. A couple of months ago, I get a kind of random text that reads something like, "Hey, this is Bobo. I don't know what you're going to do when you get this text, but I figured it was worth a shot. I finally cleaned up the mess I made. Wanna get a drink?"

I mean, what I was planning to do with that text was ignore it because I'm busy, but he's so cool that I didn't. I didn't ignore it, I mean.

So last week we decided to meet up for lunch.

Most of lunch is spent with my monopolizing the conversation my seemingly endless dialogue about having quit my job because, well, that's what I do these days. But towards the end, my curiosity and lack of discretion gets the better of me and I ask, "So, tell me about this this mess you made."

At which point eyes are rolled and sighs are released and hands are brought to head, and it is only the nicer part of me that resists saying "I could have TOLD you that this would end like this - girls who want to get that serious, that fast will ALWAYS be problems in the end." But I don't say it. Except that I know that he reads this blog so basically I am saying it, just not with a knowing smirk on my face while I eat a salad. So same thing, really. But, seriously, I could have TOLD you how this would go down.

Anyway, after the dramatic opening, this:

Bobo
There's not even time to go into all of that. But I'll tell you, I'm about to tell you what I've learned. In thirty-nine years of living this is what I've learned.

Me
This is your life lesson for me?

Bobo
Yes. Here's what I've learned. There are three things you can count on in life. Death, taxes, and the fact that women will hear what they want to hear.

Me
Women are crazy. You're just realizing this?

Bobo
Yes, women are crazy, but more specifically, they only hear what they want to hear. I think that that's something you learn in your thirties.

Me
Oh, right, because in your twenties, everything like that just falls into the general bucket of "women are crazy," but as you enter your thirties you start to be able to narrow it down to precise ways in which women are crazy, one of which is certainly that women only hear what they want to hear.

Bobo
Yes.

Me
And you're just realizing this now?

Bobo
Well, remember, I was married during most of my early thirties, so I missed the part where most men are learning that women only hear what they want to hear.

Me
I see. Well, I mean, I basically agree with you. Women hear what they want to. Now you know.

I mean, so there it is, gentlemen. Women only hear what they want to hear. Now you know. Or maybe you already knew that, in which case Bobo could have used your help. I'm not saying, I'm just saying.

Oh, and I could have warned you that that situation would end up like that. I'm JUST SAYING.

Happy weekend.