I unfortunately have a mental illness…
When someone blathers into my ear for 20 plus minutes about their latest athletic accomplishment or hypochondratic organ, my head begins to hurt and my brain begins to shut down. (These aren’t the only subjects perpetrating the symptoms but they do seem to be quite populat with the tact-challenged.) This is preceeded by a very pissed off look in my eyes as well as a great bit of fidgeting and excuse making about where I need to be or what I’ve got to do.
And yet their story continues. Ad nauseum. Ad pukem. Ad violent shaking and rigorous convulsing. Ad ear sweat.
This talent is rare in most humans but some most decidedly have the gift…
- the gift to make me retch with their spoken word.
- the gift to incapacitate my sensory organs.
- the gift to impact my throat with bile to the point I’m damn near on my knees begging them to stop.
What the hell? Why why why must they feign ignorance of my condition and continue with their perverse torture?
Don’t get me wrong. I absolute adore 99% of the population and revel in most stories and banter. But there’s always one neighbore or cow-orker that’s hell-bent of trying my patience.
I don’t give a flying f about evey single incident that happened to them and every one of their obsessed cronied during every bike ride they went on in the month of April. Why would he even think that would be of any interest to me? We shared bike stories once when we first met and that gives him the right to expound every damn time we’ve talked for the last four years about that hopelessly mundane sliver of his existance? Jeez buddy, don’t you have something else to share, like about your wife, your pending childbirth, your yard, your job, your big toe? Anything please except more about your gd bike.
I really don’t mean to sound insensitive. I honestly don’t consider myself that way at all. I love people, it’s just that I don’t deal with “yak” very well at all. Brag a little. Share a little. Let’s exchance experiences and tales that are entertaining or that we each might be able to benefit from. But throw at me an outline for stupification and then go into chapter and verse and he or she’s going to effing piss me off.
Obviously, this just happened. I’ll be better, I’ve just got to vent a bit because this verbal diuretic just gave me a blistering headache. To anybody I’ve ever done this to, I’m so very very very sorry. I obviously wasn’t thinking.
So my problem and question is this… my wife says she can see it in my eyes when someone’s yaking has supersaturated my finite braintolerance. How do you politely, or at least tactfully, deal with the verbally effluent? Just trying to be nice and chock full of patience is going to turn me into a dedgum half-wit…