“The more you try to convince of me of how interesting you are the more I become convinced of how monstrously boring you are.”
“Wow,” said Thad. “That’s harsh.”
“It’s not my job to bolster your sad little ego,” said Millie.
“So you’re saying you don’t want to go out with me?”
“I would rather die.”
“Gee. How do you think that makes me feel?”
“I should imagine it feels as if you are facing a very unpleasant truth about yourself.”
“So I guess this is it.”
“I certainly hope so.”
“Don’t you think you could have been a little nicer about it?”
“I could have, but if I had you probably would have persisted in pestering me.”
“You really know how to deflate a guy, Millie.”
“Listen, Brad –”
“Sorry. Listen, ‘Thad’, do you want my advice?”
“I’m not so sure, but okay.”
“You’re not a bad chap, and not bad looking, and you apparently make good money, but you’re a bore, a hopeless bore. But the good news is that there are thousands, no, millions of boring girls out there looking for a fellow, girls who are so boring they won’t think that you’re a bore. Find one of these boring girls. Preferably a nice one. Marry her. Raise boring children. Then grow old, and die. And now please never call me again.”
“So, like, you wouldn’t like to get together just for a cup of coffee sometime?”
Millie gave no verbal reply, but stubbed out her Vogue, polished off the last of her martini, slung her purse over her lovely shoulder, got up, removed her wrap from the back of her bar stool, and walked away.
“Another martini for you, sir?” said the bartender.
“Yes, please,” said Thad.
– She Brooked No Nonsense, by "Harriet Pierce Stonebrake" (Horace P. Sternwall), a Perma Book paperback original, 1956.