Start Fiction:
"And that is why I am single," the brunette girl said in her high, squealing voice. She slammed her milk down on the table.
"I so understand," her blond friend said in her deep, masculine, voice. Rolling her eyes, she sipped on her iced tea.
"I can't take it anymore," Bill said as he stood up and walked over the ladies table. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't help over hear your conversation."
The two women looked at each other, crossed their arms and looked back at Bill. "And?" the brunette said, piercing his ears.
"If you really want to know why you are single," he began, "shut your mouths and listen to the words that are coming from your mouth."
The girl's mouths dropped open.
He continued, "You sit here with your overly high, if not fantasy, expectations of how men SHOULD be and don't see that you are so closed minded to see that you need to accept how men actually are." Several male customers applauded. "You sit at home with your cats and watch Nora Ephron movies and think THAT is how life really is; it's pathetic." the applause grew louder, a few cheers interjected.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" the brunette shrieked, bouncing in her seat. The blond turned red, her nostrils flared.
"I am just an average guy who is fed up with being blamed for all the relationship problems," Bill told her. "Your whiny ass voice and your man voice are the first clues as to why you are single; but when words come out of your mouths it makes complete sense."
"How dare you," the blond bellowed.
"How dare you!" he shot back. "Don't you realize that every man you meet has a life BEFORE he meets you? He has likes and dislikes, friends and hobbies, family and sometimes a job; and all of it has NOTHING to do with you."
The two women flapped their mouths trying to speak, however they were so upset no words would come.
"And for you, that is the problem; you are NOT his world and you don't like that. Pathetic. It just has to be ALL about you."
Men were standing on their tables, clapping and whistling. Bill walked back to is table and sat down. Now maybe he could finish his dinner in peace and quiet.
End Fiction.
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