denverpilot
Tied Down
I get the people who want to tell me crap about their lives that I really don’t and never will care about.
My mother gets this also by the way. And the gene commentary comes from my very smart youngest sister who once told my mom after some stranger told my mom some crazy life story thing in a grocery store...
“If I got that gene from you that attracts those people, I’ll kill myself.”
We all died laughing over it.
But...
I got the gene.
The other day I’m entering a men’s room during intermission at a show. I’m making a beeline for a urinal. I am not making eye contact with anyone. I am not smiling. I am on a mission to pee. That’s it.
Some dude comes out of a stall and as I’m walking past him completely ignoring him, he starts telling me the design of the toilet paper dispenser is poor and seems to want my input on same.
I grunt a “huh...” noise and continue walking to be urinal a LONG way from his stall. He walks to the sink to wash his hands and now raises his voice to continue telling me his analysis of the particular engineering design of the toilet paper dispenser in a tone of voice like we’re long friends.
This continues while I’m peeing and until he walks out of the bathroom. I don’t think he continued the fascinating conversation he was having with himself outside the restroom with anyone else.
There were at least six or seven other people in this restroom. Probably more. I didn’t count. Remember no eye contact. I’m here to pee.
But always. Always always always. These “I am going to tell you a story” types will literally talk to the back of my head even if I put up a hand and rudely tell them I’m not interested in their story. I’ve tried it. And I’m not normally rude about it. But seriously. Talk to the hand.
My sister thinks I should start a cult with these people. But it’s damned funny the few times we see her (she lives in Texas) that we’ll go out somewhere and she’ll see it coming... “That one is going to tell you stuff. Here he comes...”
And damned if she isn’t right. And then I’m trying to get away and when we finally ditch whoever it is she just looks and me and starts laughing and says “you have it! Blame mom!” and rolls her eyes, and I’m about doubled over laughing by then.
So...
Anyone else here have “the gene”?
I’ve heard about so many personal stories about **** I’ll never ever be interested in, or even have happen to me in my lifetime, it’s incredible.
One dude spent ten minutes talking about how he got stabbed by his baby momma’s boyfriend to the back of my head in a grocery store. I only occasionally made eye contact just to make sure he wasn’t a freaking knife murderer himself or something.
The list just goes on and on.
My mother gets this also by the way. And the gene commentary comes from my very smart youngest sister who once told my mom after some stranger told my mom some crazy life story thing in a grocery store...
“If I got that gene from you that attracts those people, I’ll kill myself.”
We all died laughing over it.
But...
I got the gene.
The other day I’m entering a men’s room during intermission at a show. I’m making a beeline for a urinal. I am not making eye contact with anyone. I am not smiling. I am on a mission to pee. That’s it.
Some dude comes out of a stall and as I’m walking past him completely ignoring him, he starts telling me the design of the toilet paper dispenser is poor and seems to want my input on same.
I grunt a “huh...” noise and continue walking to be urinal a LONG way from his stall. He walks to the sink to wash his hands and now raises his voice to continue telling me his analysis of the particular engineering design of the toilet paper dispenser in a tone of voice like we’re long friends.
This continues while I’m peeing and until he walks out of the bathroom. I don’t think he continued the fascinating conversation he was having with himself outside the restroom with anyone else.
There were at least six or seven other people in this restroom. Probably more. I didn’t count. Remember no eye contact. I’m here to pee.
But always. Always always always. These “I am going to tell you a story” types will literally talk to the back of my head even if I put up a hand and rudely tell them I’m not interested in their story. I’ve tried it. And I’m not normally rude about it. But seriously. Talk to the hand.
My sister thinks I should start a cult with these people. But it’s damned funny the few times we see her (she lives in Texas) that we’ll go out somewhere and she’ll see it coming... “That one is going to tell you stuff. Here he comes...”
And damned if she isn’t right. And then I’m trying to get away and when we finally ditch whoever it is she just looks and me and starts laughing and says “you have it! Blame mom!” and rolls her eyes, and I’m about doubled over laughing by then.
So...
Anyone else here have “the gene”?
I’ve heard about so many personal stories about **** I’ll never ever be interested in, or even have happen to me in my lifetime, it’s incredible.
One dude spent ten minutes talking about how he got stabbed by his baby momma’s boyfriend to the back of my head in a grocery store. I only occasionally made eye contact just to make sure he wasn’t a freaking knife murderer himself or something.
The list just goes on and on.
