His questions are tedious and boring, yet he behaves as if they could build a substantial conversation around them.  "Is London broil flank steak or round steak?"  Round steak I think, she will say.  He furrows his brow, cocks his head to the side "I don't think so.  No, I believe it's flank steak."  Okay, she says, after all who gives a shit.  He'll revisit this question in his head and puzzle out loud a minute more.  She ignores him.  More idiot questions:  "What's the difference between creole and cajun?  Who played Fredo in the Godfather?  You've never seen The Getaway with Steve McQueen?  No?  Never cared for Steve McQueen?!"  He is aghast at her ignorance and apathy.  His questions come out of nowhere, apropos of what?  The creole question seemed to come when she had him and his mother over for shrimp.  A casual mention of Marlon Brando may have prompted the Fredo question.  She knows who the actor is now, and had seen him in lots of movies like the Deer Hunter, but didn't know his name.  It's a 40-year-old movie for Chrissakes. 

His questions are dopey and seem designed to make it seem like she is lacking in common basic knowledge.  It's like talking to her mother.  Tedious at best, when they are the only adults in the room.  It's  embarrassing when his girlfriend or her friends are around because he thinks himself a terrific wit and will interrupt normal conversations with a knowing grin or sly glance to accompany his idiot remarks.  Most often if she looks at him blankly as if to say WTF he will shut up.  His girlfriend ignores him too.

She's known him for 50 years and is beginning to hate his guts, but likes his mother so doesn't feel she can be mean to him.  Plus, he's completely clueless, but never downright mean.  Everything he does is stupid and tasteless, like commenting about her teenage daughter's friends' figures (gross), taking a big bite of canned dog food as he spoons it out for his dog, then removes the spoon from his own mouth with a florish, not embarrassed, not aware of how gross he is.   His hands are big with long fingers and huge nail beds, but ugly like flippers.  His thumbs grow along the same line of his index fingers, making it appear as if they will not oppose.   He is always rubbing the side of his face, his chin, holding a fork in his fist. 

Yet he's been nice before, lending money she couldn't then or even now pay back.  He had given her rides here and there since she no longer had a car.  They had had conversations about their childhood in which he was very understanding and insightful.  What was wrong with her that she couldn't accept his failings and extend him some consideration as he had for her.  Well, her case for dislike was extremely simple and obvious to her.  She couldn't stand him most of the time and with all the guilt that had piled up on her head in her 50 years of life, she wasn't going to feel guilty about her resentment and dislike towards him.  Not if he didn't feel guilty about being a complete dope, which he didn't, she wouldn't feel guilty for being intolerant of him.  He was, in fact, quite smug about how stupid  and insulting he could often manage to be.    The solution would be to avoid him like the plague which she would do from this day forward, try and pay him back his money again, never accept a favor or borrow money from him again.