'Interesting?' said Husband. 'No.'
'Thank you, dear, but I said interested not interesting.'
'Oh. No, you don't have that either. You just glaze over.'
'You notice it so why don't other people?'
I was interested in whether my face had a particularly inviting talk-at-me look about it as over the years I seem to have been subjected to more than my fair share of people who talk at me, regardless of my glazed-over eyes, and it's men in particular.
I can think of two who were part of Linden long ago who could ignore not only the glassy-eyed stare but the barely-concealed yawning without even a suspicion that they were to blame. Two? No, make that three. No, actually now I can come to think of it most of them are male. Males who assume I'm interested in computers - just because I play on one doesn't mean I understand the workings any more than I could attempt brain surgery just because I have a head - engines, politics, personal family history - now and again if there's a reason to know it, fine, but not because, 'well, I might as well tell you this now I've started.' No, really, you needn't - and, well, you get the idea.
And I suppose any topic, even one in which I have a great interest, will soon become boring if it's a monologue in which I am given no opportunity to respond and there is never any suggestion that the speaker might be interested in what I have to say on the topic.
Look, if you want to be boring, do what I do: write a blog; don't talk at me.