Saturday, March 27th, 2004 • No Comments on Until Next Time, Oh Boring One
Have you ever been trapped in a conversation with someone, only it’s not a conversation, it’s a monologue? They keep yapping on and on about something, and just when you sense they’re starting to wind down and maybe you’ll be released from this hell, they go off on a tangent thereby ensuring your continued captivity for another ten minutes. Only there are more tangents than there are days in the week, and it’s all about things that you have absolutely no interest in because it’s ridiculously early on a Saturday morning and, also, because you are listening to The Most Boring Person in the World who could make the Kama Sutra sound as exciting as a root canal, so those ten minutes feel like something close to a year and not just any year, but the last year of your life before you die from some horrible, disfiguring disease at which time your very last thought will be of this person practicing techniques from the Kama Sutra.
And as that thought flits through your mind while they’re droning on and on, you think “Ick!” because you sure as hell don’t want to be thinking about this person in relation to the Kama Sutra unless there’s a position called Bag On Head in Pitch Blackness While Intoxicated and Also Stoned, and even then you don’t want to think about it. So you try to drag your mind away from that mental train wreck, except you can’t, so you resolve to make the most of a bad situation and decide that maybe if you think about this person and another person you don’t like, that might be kind of funny and distracting. So you start smirking to yourself, imagining the two most boring people in the world getting it on to page 62 of the Kama Sutra and as that thought takes you off on a twisted ride down the rabbit hole, you are completely oblivious to your captor’s current topic of interest and you figure that’s okay because they haven’t yet noticed your glazed over eyes or the drool that is gathering in the corner of your mouth. And the possibility of them ever noticing how truly disinterested you are is about as likely as your chance of escaping this mind-numbing moment without aid of a cattle prod or a SWAT team, which is to say not very likely at all because not only do some people not have a clue, they can’t even buy one.
Pretty soon, you’re actually smiling at this cretin and they’re taking it as encouragement to continue stunning you (like a fish that’s been slapped on the deck of a boat) with their version of wit and charm and they continue yammering at you in a rapid rat-ta-tat-tat that you deflect with your warped imagination until—at long last—they say, “Don’t you think so?” thus signaling the end of their lecture. You realize that a response is expected and you enthusiastically agree (a bit too loudly), “Absolutely!” feeling as if you’ve just scored the winning touchdown in the Super Bowl and Janet is flinging bits of her clothing at you as you do a celebratory dance on the field and the crowd is going wild because you, yes YOU, survived yet another conversation with The Most Boring Person in the World, except you will never again be able to look at a copy of the Kama Sutra without feeling a little sick to your stomach, though you consider it a small price to pay for your sanity. So you stagger away, clutching your head which is both throbbing in agony and dizzy with relief, feeling like the fox that’s just had to chew his foot off to escape the trap and thinking that bashing yourself in the head with the Oxford English Dictionary until unconsciousness overtakes you would be preferable to ever having to endure that kind of agony again.
This ever happen to you? Welcome to my existence.