Amish as it gets

Call me old-fashioned, but I think a proper conversation has two sides.

Two or more people voluntarily exchange niceties, secrets, facts, what-have-you, and it's a dialogue.  It's like tennis.  The ball gets served to one side, and then hit back over the net.  Right?  It doesn't just get served over and over from the one side, either landing on the court or pelting the other player, now, does it?  I don't think that's how it's supposed to go.  I have, however, seen people hit tennis balls against walls and be perfectly satisfied with the return of their ball, time and again, from an inanimate object.  Fine.  But, if you ask me, that's a monologue.

For whatever reason, a certain kind of person finds me to be a fascinating specimen.  I can't quite put my finger on what it is about them that makes it so, and I surely have no clue as to what they latch onto about me, but it's always been this way.  I have just enough strangeness to really turn some folks' screws.  Maybe it's my "unique" first name, maybe it's the African warrior women around my left wrist.  Who knows.  What I do know, is that the behavior that ensues is maddening.  There I am, pummeled by The Questions which are always the same.  I am thirty-five years old, and I have been answering anywhere from one to all of these questions every day of my life since I could speak.  It goes something like this:

1.  Were you conceived in the back of a Buick?  

(You've lost my eye contact) 

2.  Does your father own a car dealership?  

(Crickets)

3.  Is you brother's name Ford?
(Crickets while I walk away)

4.  Is your middle name LeSabre? 

(If you've made it to this question, I'm long gone, and we'll never really know one another.)

5.  Do you have siblings?  What are their names? 

I have one brother.  His name is Boey.
6.  Is he named after David Bowie? 

I don't think so.  I don't know.  Maybe. 

7.  Why are you vegan?  

Because I want to be.
8.  What do you eat everyday?
I'm not sure that's any of your business.

9.  Does it offend you when people eat meat in front of you?  

Of course not.
10.  Is your fiance vegan too?
No.

11. Do you and your fiance make music together? 

Not really.

12.  Why? 

Because we have our own projects that we're pretty busy with.  

It's a long life ahead.  It'll happen, I'm sure.

13.  What do you mean, you "produce" your own records?
That's a question for Google.
14.  What's the difference between music engineering and production?  

That's also a question for Google.

15.  How did you win a Grammy?
a.  I didn't tell you I did.
b.  Same way everyone else does.

c.  I have two. 

16.  Did you go to the Grammys? 

No.
17.  What kind of Country singer are you?  Like Johnny Cash?

a.  I'm not a Country singer at all. 

b.  No one is like Johnny Cash.

18.  How do you know Joss Stone?  

I don't.

19.  How was working with (enter a celebrity's name here)?   

Wonderful.

20.  How many tattoos do you have?  

I don't know, and please don't touch me.
21.  Did this hurt?  

Yes, and please stop touching me.

22.  What do you mean you've NEVER had a beer?  Never?  Nothing?  Weed?  Nothing?!!!

I don't use any substances.  That's what I mean.
23.  But you know you're not really "straightedge" because you drink coffee, right?  

Ok.
24.  How do you get your protein? 

From food with protein in it.  Also, I eat babies.  Alive.
25.  Are you Amish? 

Yes, I'm wearing a Smiths shirt and have tattoos all over my body... 

But, I'm Amish all right.  Amish as it gets.

And there it is.  My daily questionnaire.  To be clear: I love my name, my brother, my sweetheart, my diet, and my value system.  I'm happy to have a civilized, balanced dialogue about any and all of it, just as I'd love to hear about some similar points of interest in another person's life.  It's all about give and take.  And respect.  You can respectfully inquire about something without applying a tone of mocking or awe.  You really can.  And you really should.  If you choose not to, you might be introduced to a baby-eating, unfriendly girl named Buick.  And frankly, Mr. Shankly, it'll be all your fault.

Love, 

That Girl