Loquacious, Verbose, Prolix, Discursive, Garrulous, And Orotund!

I met a twenty-four-year-old girl on a dating app, and we decided to meet for a date. We spoke shortly before, and I should have known this date was going to be a “fun” one when she’d asked me:

Girl: “So, what are your qualifications?”

Me: “Qualifications for…?”

Girl: “Your academic background, silly!”

Me: “I have a Master’s in computer science if that’s what you’re asking.”

She replied about her own academic history and later sent me a PDF copy of her thesis, which struck me as rather odd for a first conversation. Being that it was 100-something pages discussing existentialism, it didn’t hold my attention for longer than ten seconds.

Then came the date. (Note: This clearly isn’t the exact dialogue; this is just how it sounded to me.)

Girl: “So, in your opinion, would you agree that the empirical ascertainment of the capricious marginalization of proletarian citizens in a stratospherically centralized ethnostate persistently dictates an unimpeachable system of heterogeneous hierarchy, or do you maintain a pantheistic perspective which scintillates the irrefragable evidence that such a denigrating theorem has yet to be unequivocally proven?”

I responded after a five-second pause.

Me: “I’m sorry, what?”

Girl: “It’s a simple question. What didn’t you understand?”

Me: “The entire question. Maybe ask that again in plain English?”

Girl: *Curling her nose in disgust* “I thought you had a Master’s degree!”

Me: “I do—”

Girl: “Then you should know what I’m saying!”

Me: “Let me put it in a better perspective. I have an extended academic background in the field of computers and information technology.”

Girl: “You have a MASTER’S DEGREE—”

Me: “It doesn’t mean I’m a human dictionary! I have extensive knowledge of computers. Ask me about programming languages, algorithms, or network security, and I’ll talk your ear off for the next two hours. Ask me about philosophy, and I’ll give you a blank stare!”

Girl: *Shaking her head* “Forget I asked.”

She then proceeded to chat about herself, her third self-published autobiography on Amazon, her views on everything that was ten letters long and ended with “-ism”, her membership at the “XYZ and ABC Society,” and on and on.

When the waitress finally asked if she could bring the bill because her shift was ending, I could have hugged her.

Needless to say, that date was ghosted. But out of bored curiosity, I looked on Amazon for her self-published autobiographies. I found one… with a single one-star review saying, “The author of this ‘book’ seems to have an unhealthy infatuation with her thesaurus. I couldn’t get past two chapters because half the words and terms were constantly used out of context, while the other half I constantly had to look up in the dictionary!”