Without Apology
My roommate tells me I’ve grown a penis. I’ve gotten balls of late. I was out on another first meetup with a congenial and successful man in his 50s who, sadly, wouldn’t stop talking. Yes, it was in theory a discussion about one of my great passions, rock climbing, but it was all about his climbing, and it was not a discussion after all. I was a captive audience.After allowing him the courtesy of not interrupting for 20 minutes — while I plotted my escape — I dramatically placed the cap back on my bottle of Crystal Geyser, put my palms on the table and stood up, saying, “This is not a conversation. I am leaving. This is not working for me.”

Done With Douchebags
Men my age tend to bloviate on a first date: They shut the woman down, rendering her a captive audience like a bunny in a cage. When a woman can’t get a word in edge-wise, she often allows herself to be disempowered. She shuts down because she hasn't the realization or the courage to speak her voice. This isn't power or control on the part of the man; it's being a douchebag.Women my age were conditioned to not interrupt the man. To be polite and listen. To say yes. To agree, without a voice of our own. We have been raised to finish what we started; hence we don’t realize we can stand up for ourselves and state what we want and need — and what we don’t like.A