RD was watching the Homerun Derby the other night, so I should have known better than to speak. I was talking to him, or at him rather, for a few minutes when I noticed he still had the glazed over look in his eyes he gets when he watches anything sports. It's amazing he wasn't drooling. Really. Anyway...I said,
Me: You're not listening to me.
Me: RD! You're not listening to me.
RD: Looking dazed... Wha?
Me: Seriously, RD. I've been talking to you...standing two feet from you...and you haven't heard a word?
RD: I'm watching the game.
Me: Y...e...a...you can still talk. Did you hear any of what I said? How can you not hear me?
RD: If you want to say something to me, you need to say my name first and then I'll know you're talking to me.
Me: BLANK STARE
RD: Returns to game
Me: You're kidding, right? You're the only one in the room! Who in the hell else could I be talking to?
RD: BLANK STARE
Me: Nevermind.
