I’ve never made it any secret that I am not one for small talk. I’m perfectly fine with silence, either the comfortable or uncomfortable varieties — in preference over small talk anyway. It might be that it seems like an insurmountable task to engage in small talk now that I don’t have a drink or cigarette in one hand, the other, or both. It’s really a thing for me; I lost my ability to natter on about stuff when I went both sober and smober. The smokes and the glass/bottle gave me a prop to fidget with, to play a persona, a mask to slip inside when social situations called for loathsome small talk.
So, picture my dread this morning when I showed up early to a local passport office and limited DMV service center to renew my passport for some expected upcoming Canadian travel (recall those days when we could just use our driver’s license to slip over to Canada? Oh, those were the days!) and encountered not one, not two, but three individuals who thrived off of small talk. Engaging in such small talk. Loudly.
I’m just going to say it. Americans are perhaps some of the loudest people on the face of the planet. If their volume goes up to ten, they will turn it up to eleven while most people I’ve met from around the globe tend to talk at a three or four volume level.
And these folks were small talking about the most inane things, all the while repeating themselves in case you missed the inane thing the first time. That another thing us American’s seem to need: repetition in case the volume wasn’t loud enough.
You know what I did? I put on my old gothy mcgothy face and stared intently out into the late spring baseball field just beyond the parking lot.
Don’t. Fuck. With. Me. I will eat you for breakfast.
Yeah, that look.
It served it’s purpose to keep them from engaging with me, but it didn’t stop them from babbling on. How many times can you say that Minnesota is colder Nashville? Or that dandelion fluff makes more dandelions? And did I (as a complete stranger) really need to hear about how you had your jaw wired shut for six months after a trucking accident twenty years ago?
These kinds of government office visits are already tedious bureaucracies, adding small talk to the queue wait turns tedium to torture for someone like me.
Thankfully, they were ahead of me when the line finally formed and numbered tickets were taken from the spool and they were quickly assisted and shuffled off out of the building with little small talk within the hallowed walls of government.
At least my passport is in now and I can avoid those kinds of queues for a while.
Until I encounter customs at the border crossing, anyway.
A sentence should be like a serpent
Quick with a sting in its tail
String me a line that has meaning and depth
There's no small talk with walkie talkies
Small talk stinks
25 responses to “Small talk stinks”
Funny enough, I am not always one for small talk, but during a recent hospital waiting room visit, I actually got into an interesting conversation with another gentlemen who was waiting as well. I will say this, that kind of engagement is becoming more and more rare these days!
I agree, and I don’t mind some chatter, but this was one of those cases where three people were talking and not really listening to each other. Loudly.
It drove me bonkers 🙂
Most people have not mastered the art of listening, unfortunately.
I am surprised they were talking at all, and not buried face first in their phones lol
There was plenty of that, too. Which is probably why there was such a repetitive nature to the “conversation”.
“Minnesota Nice” sometimes means making conversation where there is no real conversation to be had. 😆
Sounds like a regional plague you’ve got going over there! 😄
And it might be. LOL.
You know what pisses me off is people on mobile phones who hold loud conversations on buses/trains or even walking down the street. Do I really want to hear a loud one-sided conversation about whereabouts someone is or what they want for their lunch? I think not.
Yes, the British are turning American!
Oh… You haven’t migrated yet to the speakerphone phone calls in public?
Wait for it…
Oh yes, there’s a few who favour that. I’m not sure which is worst tbh.
I’m so very sorry.
😂
Say what??? LOL
I know right?
😂
Fortunately the border crossing will be in lines of cars, not lines of people in a building, so no small talk will be forced upon you lol
LOL. You underestimate my ability to attract such conversations 😆
I swear… I wonder if I exude some kind of chatter pheromone at times.
How are you? Isn’t the weather nice today? Have you been here before? Do you have any recommendations while I’m here? Have you read any good books lately? Have you ever listened to the band Portishead? Did you know that the giraffe has the same number of vertebrae in its neck as a human?
Wow. Maybe you’re right, Michael. Where did that come from?!
On a side note. While I, too, am happy to sit in both comfortable and uncomfortable silences, I also like small talk. I like making connections and interacting with others, especially if it can help create something positive.
😆
I’m not any good at it anymore. Sad to say. Weirdo that I am.
It’s worse than npc’s in a game set up sometimes 😅
“…and then I took an arrow to the knee.”
That’s one thing I appreciate about the small talk in “Tainted Grail”. It is actually amusing to listen in on conversations at the pub. And helpful for quests.
I live right on the border. I remember when you could cross into Canada with a high school ID. I miss those days.
“When a place gets crowded enough to require ID’s, social collapse is not far away. It is time to go elsewhere.” Heinlein
That’s a scary quote. And probably all too pertinent.
I’m having a great laugh here at your Don’t F With Me face! I too hate small talk. I was a Forces wife for years, and serious topics of conversation were taboo at mess dinners. It drove me crazy, but somehow I managed. Fast forward many years to find the man and I taking a coach trip by ferry from Dover to Belgium for a beer festival. The two guys in the seats behind us kept up and unending babble of small-talk verbal diahorrea the entire way there, and back again two days later. I don’t know how I’m not currently doing time for a double homicide, but thank goodness I’m not. The longest days of my life. 😐
I hate those captive audience moments. Hours or more of incessant chatter about nothing much at all. I can’t promise I wouldn’t end up locked in a cell 😆