Anyone work with a "Del Griffith?"

Do any of you have to work with any Del Griffith[sup]*[/sup] types of people?

Today, while on my lunch, I was accosted by another worker whose name I do not know and someone with whom I have never previously engaged in any sort of conversation. I had only seen her a few times off and on in the time I have worked here. I sat down with my lunch, minding my own business. Suddenly I heard her talking to someone. I thought she was talking to someone else until I realized that the other people weren’t paying any attention to her. When I turned to look at her I realized I was the one she was talking to. In the course of about 15 minutes she babbled on about all kinds of crap, things I don’t really give the slightest shit about. Here are some of the highlights from our “conversation” (98% of the talking spewing from her chattering lips while I reply with courteous grunts and nods and the occasional remark ) :

[ul]
[li]She’s called her boyfriend five times and he doesn’t answer. “Why carry a cell phone if you’re not going to answer it, right?” Just because someone carries a cell phone doesn’t mean he is obligated to always answer it. Hell, if I were her boyfriend, and she always talked that way, I wouldn’t answer, either. I don’t blame him one bit for not answering![/li][li]“I can’t be without my cell phone! How did we ever get by without them?” Well, civilization managed to get by without them for thousands of years before, but by some miracle we somehow survived to this point. Amazing, ain’t it?[/li][li]“The vending machine is out of Zingers. They should put another row of Zingers in the vending machine. There were a whole bunch of Zingers in there and today they’re gone.” Well gee, it seems like she’s not the only here one who likes Zingers. The vending machine didn’t have any pretzels, either, but my whole world didn’t fall apart because of it.[/li][li]The reason she was trying so hard to call her boyfriend was so that he could bring her some Zingers. I asked her how far he would have to come to bring them to her. “That’s not the issue; I gotta have my Zingers.” If she has this much of an addiction for a snack food, she needs therapy more than anything else. Maybe there’s a Zingerholics Anomymous group she should join.[/li][li]I was eating Dinty Moore beef stew, which I brought from home in a can, heated in the microwave. She asked me if it was homemade. I told her that it wasn’t and explained what it was. “You should have lied and impressed me, or told me that your wife made it.” (I don’t even have a wife, shows how little she knows me). I said, “I’d rather be honest.” “But that’s boring.” “Maybe so, but at least being honest has kept me out of a lot of trouble.”[/li][li]“Do you have a wife or girlfriend?” she asked. “No, I don’t,” I replied, making no eye contact as I resumed eating. At least she had the sense to not pursue this topic any further. Thank God she didn’t implore me for more details on this one. My dating failures and dashed hopes at a married life is a topic I really don’t care to discuss with anyone, especially with someone whose acquaintence with me is so low as to classify that person as a complete stranger.[/li][li]“You know, I wish we had a deep fryer here in the break room so I could make French fries.” I told her that they probably don’t have one because someone would have to change the oil and clean up the oil splatter mess, not to mention the potential liability issues where someone might get badly burned. “But they have a toaster in here, and someone could get burned on that.” True, but the overall risk for injury is lower. “I bet if you stuck a fork in there you could sue this place and you’d never have to work again, huh?” Honest to Christ, does she think I’m that fucking stupid?! :rolleyes: I’m sure she didn’t mean this seriously, but I just thought it was too asinine of a comment to merit a reply.[/li][li]She heated up a microwave burrito and then proceeded to take a seat across from me while she ate it. She then showed it to me after she had bitten into it and said, “this is supposed to be a beef and bean burrito. You don’t see much beef in there, do you?” “Uh. no, I don’t.” “Oh well, they were only thirty-three cents apiece anyway.” “You get what you pay for,” I said, trying to be polite but at the same time wishing she’d just SHUT THE FUCK UP!!![/li][li]“I bet I could eat five of these,” she said, referring to the burritos. Well, if you do, let me know so that I can stay away from the flatulatory effects. Thinking she had given her brooding over the dearth of Zingers in the vending machine a rest, she went back to this topic and said, “of course I’d rather eat five Zingers.” I suggested she go get a box of them at the convenience store down on the corner. “But it’s my break and I only have fifteen minutes! Are you trying to get rid of me?” If I were brutally honest, I would have said, “YES!”[/li][/ul]

At that point I had finished my meal and was ready to return to work. Next time I see her in the break room I’ll avoid her at all costs. I’d rather eat in peace and not be disturbed. I just hope she understood that I wasn’t trying to be a jerk to her, just that I am not one who likes to engage in idle chitchat with people I don’t know. It’s not in my nature to be sociable.

I thought about putting this in the Pit, but decided that it doesn’t have the vitriol to warrant its placement there, so I posted it here instead.

[sup]*[/sup]For those who don’t recognize the name, Del Griffith (John Candy) is the name of the character who is paired up with Neal Page (Steve Martin) in the movie Planes, Trains & Automobiles. Del, a traveling salesman who sells shower curtain rings to hotels, is portrayed as a blabbering lout who just can’t keep his mouth shut, much to the annoyance of his impromptu traveling companion, Neal, who is a refined, clean-cut gentleman whose career and lifestyle contrasts sharply with Del’s crude and obnoxious mannerisms.

Woah…where do you work that employs someone like that? Office? Retail? Factory?

What does she do?

How old is she?

Did anyone else eating lunch notice this conversation? Did they watch and snicker?

I cannot wrap my head around this situation happening in real life. This would make me want to eat in my car every day. :slight_smile:

It’s an office, more or less. I work in a call center where we book travel for people who wish to use the points/miles they have earnmed on their credit cards. We work with several different card issuers.

I presume she’s a fellow call agent. I’ve been there long enough to recognize all the upper echelons anmd I doubt she’s one of them.

I’d estimate she was in her mid twenties. FTR, I’m 36.

Nope, it was just she and I. It was at around 4:30 PM; usually the break room is sparsely occupied at that time. Just as well as I would have felt embarrassed. On the other hand, she would have had a wider choice of victims.

Not a bad idea. If I could operate a microwave from inside my car I’d do it just to avoid her.

Carry a newspaper into the breakroom and hide behind it next time your break coincides with hers. Choose a large-format paper, not a tabloid; it makes a bigger barrier. If Miss Verbal Diarrhea sits beside you and chatters to you anyway, make no response to her conversational overtures. If she persists in spite of your silence, give the newspaper an impatient shake and make a harrumphing noise in your throat. If she still doesn’t pick up on that cue and natters on, say, “Excuse me, can’t you see I’m trying to read the paper?”

Sounds like Kelly from The Office.

Holy shit, if it wasn’t for your location I would swear you were talking about this one girl I know. I don’t work with her, she’s the sister of a friend. Next time I would not be tiptoeing around her feelings so much. I did it with that girl, talking to her for like an hour because I wanted to be polite, but after I got dragged away someone told me I didn’t have to worry about sidling away with impunity because that girl has the attention span of a gnat and she’ll forget about me as soon as I’m gone. People like that really don’t want to make conversation, they want to have a human sounding board to bitch at and make themselves feel better. You are completely interchangeable in the interaction (with the girl I know, I learned later that we all take turns sitting and listening politely). Next time, walk away.

Dear god I am even superimposing her totally annoying voice on those quotes. Fingernails on a chalkboard, man.

Years ago I got roped into a couples’ relationship with someone my then-husband worked with. They worked at a university in the larger nearby town but, like us, resided in a smaller town about a half-hour away. She was very nice, we seemed to have a little something in common, and we were invited to dinner at their house.

The husband. My God. He was a know-it-all boor, borderline verbally abusive to his sweet wife, and incredibly jerkish the entire meal and affter-dinner game-playing we did (Trivial Pursuit or something.) He dominated every second of the time we were there, spouted nonesense about topics he knew nothing about and shouted down anyone who contradicted him. I walked out of the house with my head reeling, but sick with the knowledge that courtesy dictated that we invite them to our house sometime soon.

We did and it was a repeat performance. I refilled my wine glass repeatedly, just to get through the evening. Finally, they were gone, and I thought we’d never have to see them again.

Luckily, we didnt’ have a phone at the time, and then-husband politely put off suggestions from the wife that we get together again soon. I thought we were rid of them until one evening they SHOWED UP AT THE DOOR. While my husband hid in the bedroom, I spoke to them in the doorway. I was hideously rude; I didn’t invite them in. They hung around and hung around. Finally the husband said, “well, we just decided to drop by since we hadn’t heard from you – we thought you were trying to avoid us!”

It was the hardest thing I’d had to do, but I just stood there and smiled. Message received. We never saw them again.