The Perils of Marrying an Extrovert

I get into the elevator with my headphones on, reading an email on my phone. An older man gets into the elevator with me. After a few seconds riding in silence…

Man: “So, I hear you like sauvignon blanc?”

Me (pulling out my headphones): “I’m sorry, what was that?”

Man: “You like sauvignon blanc. Especially from New Zealand.”

Me (nervously laughing): “That is correct…”

Man: “David [who I assume is another neighbor] spoke with your husband-to-be. Nice guy! Eric, right?

Me: “That’s right…”

Man: “And you’re getting married this summer, congratulations!”

Me: “Thank you so much! We’re pretty excited.”

Man: “But yeah, you two should join us for our wine parties. David and I are both big collectors.”

Me: “Yes, that would be lovely! We’re great at drinking wine!”

Man (as we reach lobby): “Ok great, so now we know each other. We don’t have to be silent on our phones in the elevator and hallways. We can have a conversation when we see each other. Isn’t that nice?”

Me (laughing): “You know what? It really is nice!”

This is literally my worst nightmare.

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