I would prefer to forget about my last girlfriend.  It wasn’t that Stacy wasn’t attractive.  She actually was quite eye-catching.  She had long, dark hair and a sharp, elfish face that I really liked.  No, Stacy simply talked too much.  About everything.  Her beloved San Antonio Spurs, her hometown of San Antonio, her parents, her job working at a fashion magazine, the weather, the sky, the clouds, that sign on that bus stop right over there, and that nice car that’s obviously speeding down the street, and every single other thing.  I’m not shallow.  Unlike some of my friends, I wouldn’t have kept up the relationship just out of a physical attraction.  No, I need to be able to talk to a girlfriend.  Stacy wasn’t a horrible person and she wasn’t selfish or anything like that.  She just didn’t know when to stop talking.  Ironically, she told me more than once that that’s what she really liked about me.  She thought we were having all these great conversations, but they were all one-sided.  I felt bad dumping her since she apparently had no idea it was coming, but that was the only time I got to talk to her at all that she kept her own mouth shut.