How many times have you been enjoying a nice book, drinking a cup of coffee, or listening to tunes while on a plane or waiting at a random location for something, when an overly chatty person just interrupts you? Suddenly you find yourself wondering when you put on the large sign that said, “Come on over and bother me. Really, I have nothing else to do.”
Every time I walk out to get my daughter at the bus stop, I bring the current book I’m reading with me. I leave about 15 minutes prior to normal drop-off just in case the bus is early. This gives me time to relax and do something that I enjoy. Today, I started Patrick Rothfus’ “The Name of the Wind.” For any of you who have read the book, even the beginning sucks you in. I was thoroughly engrossed in the tale, when a shadow blocked my reading light.
“What cha readin?” She asked as she touched my book, bending down in a disfigured posture trying to get a glimpse of the cover.
Repulsed but polite, I answered.
“Oh. I just finished “Wicked”. It was okay. Not my favorite top ten book, but the ending was nice. I found it to be a little difficult to read. I liked the way the author….” she hastily continued, blabbing on about the ending of a book I have yet to read.
“That’s nice.” Again, I kept my composure. My hungry eyes drift down to words as I try to get back into the story, but the woman pressed on; oblivious to anything but her own life story.
“I won’t let my 12 year old daughter read that book.”
I nodded.
“Yeah, I have such a great relationship with my daughter.”
You see, this is not the first time this has happened to me. The bus stop is on a long side walk. I purposely try to seat myself further and further up on the concrete each time but she crosses the distance, regardless.
“She once brought me this book and said there were ‘icky’ parts.”
*sighs*
I normally have the patience of a saint, but I do have my limits. If you monopolize conversations after interrupting my enjoyable activity with your blathers about your life, they better be at least remotely interesting. As you can so far tell from this blog post, I get more enlightenment from an episode of Maury Povich. (and I don’t even watch the show)
Trying to give her the one last hint to stop bothering me, I took my cell phone out of my pocket and repeatedly checked the time. Alas, twas to no avail. She continued to talk even as the bus pulled up and I once again shifted my focus. She then found it prudent to continue the one way lecture by following my daughter and me home with her own child in tow.
I’m not a hateful person. I love engaging two-sided, interesting conversations. Yet, continually interrupting me repeatedly with intensely personal stories best saved for people you actually know, tends to get on my nerves. I’ve been brought up to respect people, and I would never approach someone who was busy enjoying other things. So what makes it acceptable to her?
Bah. Maybe I just expect more out of people.
Like intelligence.
You realize that you live in New England. It is perfectly acceptable and normal to tell anyone at any given time to die in a fire and then tap dance on their head. I’ve heard you go off before and know that you have it in you :). On the other hand, keep in mind that by just keeping your irritations to yourself, you may have made a very lonely woman’s month by just listening to her pointless blathering.
Trust static to know how to deal with the lonely ladies
This is why all you non new yorkers suck…
With your cars and privacy.
Take mass transit with more than 3 people on a bus/train for a few years, you’ll have much better story. 2/3rds of the good best of craigslist stories are from mass transit for a reason.
n00b
Maybe she was hitting on you…
You could always try my recent strategy of dealing with rude people in a more irrational manner. I purposefully stomped the vanity tag off the front of a pickup truck that had it’s bumper parked on top of the hood of my car. Keep in mind however that doing this may result in a confrontation with the owner, and a visit from the local police. Price of the local fine for mischievous vandalism- $500. Not holding your emotions inside anymore - Priceless.
Static: You’re right about hearing me “blow up” on occassion. It needs to be a perfect storm, or it needs to be incited by Pete. Apparently I’m only capable of doing that to people I actually like. Go figure.
Ed: Oh Please! Noob indeed. I came from da projects. Peace to all my Enfield, CT homies. Spare me the “I live in NY” shit.
Russ: I don’t think so. Atleast I hope not. Uh, help.
Damian: Unfortunately, the only thing of value she has is, uh, uh, nothing. So destruction of personal property won’t work, although the Patrick Rothfus novel could be used as a lethal weapon. The thing is huge.
Blah, blah, blah…
“Excuse me.” She stops. “Thank you.” Return to reading.
Blah, blah, blah…
“Excuse me.” She stops. “I would like to read this.” (or maybe “I’m trying to read.”)
Inarticulate apology, mumble…
“Thank you.” Return to reading. Repeat as necessary.
After all, she is the one being rude, not you.
But unless I’m actively engaged in something, I will sometimes indulge some people like you’re referring to, up to a certain point. They could just be lonely, or similarly pathetic, and generally harmless. There was the fellow at the Orange Line station who was walking back and forth and counting. He counted up to 300, then looked at me and said, “The train left 3 minutes ago.”
I said, “Sometimes I count, too. But I think 300 is 5 minutes ago.” He stopped, then smiled.
He came over and said, “Thanks,” and introduced himself, and shook my hand. I told him my name. We stood there waiting for the T, and when it came he said, “Bye.” I waved, and we got on seperate cars. He could have been autistic, or mildly retarded.
The encounter made me feel good. The memory still gives me a small smile.
Then there’s the crazies. I just look levelly at them with no response to anything they say, and move away from them.
I take commuter rail, Orange Line subway, and Silver Line bus every day. I’m open to communication, and I smile a lot. I have commute friends that I only see on the train or subway. New Englanders can be very nice people, once they open up.
Snave: I usually don’t mind talking to people, in fact I’m quite the bleeding heart. Yet, this is almost a weekly occurance.
I wouldn’t mind talking with (and I stress with) her, but the first time I met her, she immediately started going into intensely personal stuff and didn’t let me get in a word edgewise.
Another story — I was on a plane to Las Vegas and had just put on my headphones to sleep when a man studying for a nursing exam started chatting. Inwardly I sighed but I gave it a chance and it ended up being the fastest flight I’ve ever been on, due to the great conversation.
You could always do this: Look at your phone, pretend you just got a text message and say,”Oh, jeez. The hyena’s escaped again. I gotta go!” and walk away.
It’s not just ny, actually, the craigslist stories. they are from all the major citys.
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