My husband and I (I have to come up with some clever nickname or initials for him) attended a business-related dinner. One of those where you sit at a big round table with 9 other people, and there are 9 or 10 of those tables in the room and all those voices create a cacophony that would make a bat's ears bleed. So you can really only hear the people right next to you talking. If you want to hear the people across the table, you have to lean forward and cup your ear like Beverly Hillbillies Granny. And sometimes, the people on either side of you are facing away, talking to the people that aren't you. (For the purposes of this little story, I'll use "bh" for "beloved husband") (At times, that would need to be spoken with tongue firmly planted in cheek).
Me: (The people on my right are having a conversation that I can't hear completely, but I try to look keenly interested)
BH: (The people on his left are having a conversation that is engrossing to the two of them)
Me: So, how ya doin'?
BH: Pretty good. You?
Me: Not bad. This food is really good.
BH: I don't like it (he pushes it around his plate)*.
Me: You seemed to like those morel mushrooms (I'd given him one of mine and the man sitting next to me gave both of his to bh)
BH: (Shrugs) Only the first two were really good.
Me: What are they talking about on your side?
BH: Haiti, I think. Earthquake fall-out. What about your side?
BH: Oh. (We should've switched seats at this point. Finance is like the adult-speak in the Peanuts comics to me: waaah-waah-waaah. Bh is all about the finance. I might've been able to hold up a bit of conversation about Haiti, though).
BH: Why don't you ask Jean about scuba diving?
Me: Huh? (Jean is sitting two people away and is involved in the finance talk)
BH: You know, make conversation, have something to talk about.
Me: (Blinking. Trying to understand what the HELL he is talking about because Jean obviously needs no encouragement to talk and I'd have to lean over the man between us and say: "Hey, Jean, I hear you like to scuba dive!") (Also, I realize that he'd like to learn to scuba dive someday and wants me to want that, too.) (Fat chance of that ever happening). We've already had a nice conversation. I talked.
BH: What did you talk about? (His eyes sort of glaze over and I think it's because his phone buzzed, meaning he got an email and now he's itching to see what it's about)
Me: (making shit up) Whether roadkill squirrels are tastier than roadkill possums.
BH: (doesn't hear me)
Me: (goes back to the finance talk)
*THIS sort of thing is why together we look like a golf club and a bowling ball. He's a foot taller than me and weighs less.