As a school librarian, I mostly encounter students who have an actual information need. There’s the occasional student who just wants to hang out and talk, but kids tend not to go on and on for that long. At our school, the culture is to ask to visit the library when you’re bored. If the teacher says no, ask to go to the bathroom a few minutes later and then sneak down to the library.
HH Munroe (“Saki”) wrote a nice little short story in which the Club Bore inadvertently takes on the Club Liar and is unceremoniously routed.
This is so sad to me as a former denizen of libraries as a “magical cure all” for healthy escapism.
Ah, I thought “Time Vampire” referred to the guy who clocks in at 7:30, then sits around drinking coffee and surfing the net until everyone else shows up for work at 8.
Per the definition in the OP, my office’s Time Vampire is a very sweet, older gent who has absolutely no ambition beyond planning his next Halloween costume. Last week, he dropped by my office to tell me about a commercial he saw around Thanksgiving.
Someone once wrote “The secret to being a bore is to tell everything.” I hate people who say things like “So he was wearing this blue sweater. Not blue like the sky but more blue like the roof on Anna and Eddie’s old house. Not the one they live in now, but the one two or three houses ago that they had to move from when the City Condemned. Anyway, the sweater didn’t go with the turquoise necklace that he always wears and looks so stupid on his skinny neck. When we went out to eat, I kept looking at that necklace thinking it was going to fall off into his vegetable soup. No, wait a minute. He had chicken soup. Yes, chicken soup with lots of vegetables and noodle sin it. Not the flat noodles but the curly type. Yet he insisted on putting his roll into the soup.” Yada, yada, yada.
“Time Vampire” = “Clocksucker”
I had a boss who was One of Those. Would yammer on about whatever subject struck his fancy at any of the three of us (myself and his two other subordinates) non-stop. The only way to get him to finally leave was to Not Acknowledge His Presence At All. Literally treat him like he wasn’t standing right there using up oxygen like there was no tomorrow. If you have him so much as a sideways nod, he was good for another fifteen to twenty. :smack: