Tales of an Idle Conversationalist

I was at the store the other day, minding my own business at the checkout counter, waiting semi-patiently behind two Romanian women who seemingly bought every item on the clearance rack, pondering whether or not I'd actually wear a shirt with a sassy phrase on the front of it......and then I heard her, less than a foot away:  a little old lady, holding her meager soon-to-be purchases, waiting in line alongside me.  She tried talking to me, making antiquated quips about the mundane situation we seemed to have found ourselves in collectively.

I ignored her--pretended as though I didn't hear her multiple times, keeping my head straightforward, lips pursed, tuning out the din of people-chatter as I furrowed my brow, reflecting upon the sassy-phrased shirt that would soon be mine if I hadn't the soundness of mind to talk myself out of it.  The bitty was distracting me from a very serious buying decision, and I didn't like it--no sir, not one bit.

Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking:  "That poor old lady!  She's probably lonely and needed someone to talk to.  That was mean of you to ignore her!"

Sure, it probably was, but here's the thing:  I could tell from the get-go that she was one of them.  No, I don't mean elderly.  Something much more terrifying than that:  an idle conversationalist.


Allow me to explain.


There are certain individuals out there who, at any given time or place, absolutely mustrun their mouths about whatever is going on in their heads to anyone within an ear's reach, whether these audiences care to listen or not.  Somehow, they never came to terms with the concept of silence, and perpetually feel the need to spew unnecessary word-vomit everywhere they go, as though their mouths were the bus from Speed, and if they slow down for even a moment, a bomb will go off in their larynx.

I'm sure you know the type.

Another example:  I went to the video store, debating (INTERNALLY, of course) about which sub-par new release to get.  A sweatpants-clad, slovenly mess of a woman followed in shortly thereafter, and what I bore witness to was terrifying.  I wept for the poor store clerk that had to listen to her verbal diarrhea for over 5 minutes regarding the new Weeds season on DVD, and then she proceeded to have a conversation with herself about each new release she passed in a twangy, booming voice, hoping that I would chomp on the bait, chortle with her, and indulge her in some meaningless banter in return.  But nay--I chomped not.  Quite the contrary; I bee-lined to the other side of the store as soon as I realized what she was.  I was not prepared for one of them on such a peaceful Sunday afternoon.  You never really are, I daresay.

Times like these make me wonder whether the amount you speak to random strangers is directly related to your I.Q., and the more you rattle on to people that don't give a good damn, the less brain capacity you actually have.

This was also the moment that I came to a life-altering decision.

Here is a girl who would not take it anymore.  A girl who stood up against the loudmouthed, the nosy, the oblivious, the gauche.  Here is a girl who stood up.

I decided that my first line of attack would be the simplest one:  ignore them.  This has worked for most children, elderly, and fast food drive-through workers.  The second line of attack is much more invasive and must only be used in extreme measures:  all-out verbal warfare.  Usually one nuke will suffice, but it has to be sharp and cleverly placed.  I've only resorted to this method a handful of times, with a 100% success rate.  The trick is to indulge them in conversation back, but in such a way that they never, ever want to talk to you again, and hopefully question the concept of idly conversing altogether.

If the elderly lady had continued to ramble about how long the line was taking, for instance, I would've had to pull out my "yeah, it's even worse when there's someone behind you that won't stop talking" assault rifle.  Take no prisoners and show no mercy to the idle conversationalist in the battle field, lest you be sucked into a half-hour long conversation about nothing with a person that just likes to hear the sound of their own voice, and you will inevitably lose brain cells.

If you have an itch, you scratch it.  If you're cold, you put on a coat.  If you're accosted by a total stranger in the middle of a public area with no desire to speak to them whatsoever, then for Chrissakes, get rid of them.  Since life is inevitably filled with complicated, long-standing idiocies, you need not waste your time on the random, easily disposable ones.  It's always better to be an asshole with more free time on your hands than a pansy that's running late with a whole head full of stupid.